


A World Upon

by lacat123



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abuse, Abused Castiel (Supernatural), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Broken Bones, Castiel (Supernatural) Whump, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Catatonia, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Dean Winchester is Sam Winchester's Parent, Dean is In Over His Head, Dissociation, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Epilogue, Evil Lucifer (Supernatural), Fluff and Angst, Gunshot Wounds, High School Student Sam Winchester, Hospitals, Hotline Operator Dean Winchester, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kidnapped Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Police, Police Officer Lucifer (Supernatural), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Dean Winchester, Sad and Happy, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester is So Done, Selectively Mute Castiel (Supernatural), Suicidal Castiel, Tags Contain Spoilers, Triggers, Unspecified Sexualities, Wordcount: 30.000-50.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2019-11-06 06:02:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 41,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17934200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lacat123/pseuds/lacat123
Summary: Dean Winchester is a normal, small town mechanic, working hard to make ends meet for him and his brother Sam. He also happens to volunteer at Lebanon's crisis hotline, helping out those that can't themselves. When one day he gets a call from a soft spoken man having trouble staying in reality, he gives up everything to save him.That's how he meets Castiel, suicidal and homeless, working at the worn-down Gas-N-Sip across town. Despite all the guns, panic attacks, and slight hospitalizations, Dean finds himself slowly falling for the angel leaning on him for support.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all! I wrote this work over February break, and it is the longest thing I've written to date. It is just about 40,000 words, so if you do read this, you're in for the long haul. Posting every Tuesday and Saturday. Title is inspired by the lyrics to Hey Jude. Hope everyone enjoys reading! 
> 
> Dean is 22, Sam 18, and Castiel 20 for reference. 
> 
> There is a general trigger warning for issues concerning abuse (child and otherwise) along with suicidal thoughts. If that concerns you, this story is probably not good to read. As always, I will post all warnings for each chapter here. 
> 
> (EDIT 5/4/19): I spell dissociation wrong (as disassociation) throughout this entire story. Really sorry about that.
> 
> Warnings:  
> Suicidal thoughts

When Dean went back into the bedroom, Sam was still sitting up. The covers were pushed into his down off him, and his laptop was resting on his knees. Fingers were flying across the keyboard, typing at a speed Dean could barely comprehend.

“Sammy, it’s nearly midnight, and you have school tomorrow. Time to hit the hay.” His younger brother looked up, long bangs obscuring his hazel eyes. Eyes that were currently open in huge, watery, puppy-dog mode.

“But Dean, this letter is due by this Saturday, and if it’s not finished they won’t accept my application. And I’m really hoping for this one.” He sounded so excited, so full of hope for the future.

“Which is it?”

“Stanford.” He said, a little sheepishly. “I know it’s a long shot, but if I did manage to get in, maybe with those other scholarships I won...” his voice trailed off.

Dean could only sigh. He hated that he couldn’t afford to send Sam to college. Even if he worked everyday, dawn to dusk, it wasn’t enough to get just the tuition, never mind room and board, food. It was just too much. So they’re relying on scholarships, but without Sam playing a sport, a full ride was basically out.

“Go to bed, Sammy. You still have a few days, and don't you have that big test tomorrow?”

His brother sighed, shutting the laptop mournfully and handing it to Dean. “Yeah. Only in AP ethics would we be given a quiz the Tuesday after midterms.”

Dean shook his head. “Yep, only you.” He watched Sam go deep under the covers, and shut off the light. “‘Night, bitch.”

“‘Night, jerk.”

He shut the door gently, before walking back out into the living area. They couldn’t really afford anything bigger than this one bedroom apartment, but it was their home. Along with the Impala, of course. The only downside was that there was only one bed, which meant he was perpetually on couch duty.

Sam used to bitch about it, but enough stern ‘nos’ had seemed to finally get through his head. So he made up the sofa every night. It wasn’t so bad.

He tucked in the bottom sheet, before draping the scratchy blanket on top. He fluffed the pillow and laid down.

Pulling the phone out of his pocket, he checked that the sound was all the way up and the ringer was on. He really needed to wake up if someone called him.

A few seconds later and all the lights were off and Dean finally went to sleep.

*•*•*

His phone's ringing woke him up. He blinked blearily a few times, before fully registering what had awakened him. When he finally heard the loud buzzing, he was sitting bolt upright.

Reaching out, he looked at the number. It was from the night supervisor, and he quickly hit the answer button.

“Male, high risk. You up for it?” The woman, his supervisor, answered with no hesitation. Not that he blamed her. The last thing they needed was to take too long and lose the guy.

“Yeah. Yeah, just put him through.” He turned on the light and ran a hand over his face. A quick glance at the TV’s clock showed that it was 3:37 am. Way too early for any reasonable person to be up. But no one who called this number could necessarily be named reasonable. He walked shakily over to the table and sat down.

He didn't understand. He wasn't slated for high risks. Yeah, he was pretty good at this, if he could say so himself, but he'd never been given a high risk case. He was too inexperienced, volunteering for around three months. He was instead given those who just those who wanted someone to talk to or who needed to call him instead of the police because of some issue in their lives. He'd heard beatings, and even had a few unfavorable phone calls despite their screening, but never a high risk.

It was the voice that had made his heart start beating. That low, soft voice. Almost as though he was scared to talk too loud, scared that something might happen. He'd heard that before, where people had to talk in voices so whispered he could barely hear them so no one else would. He'd also heard what had happened when they spoke up just a decibel too much.

But this man, he had a different tone in his voice. An inflection not of fear, but of calm. Something that was terrifying to him, sitting safe at his little dining table in his little apartment. It showed that the man had lost his sense of emotion, lost his sense of feeling and self and everything else that makes us human and vibrant and alive.

It showed this man was already dead.

The way the man had been speaking was as though he didn't know Dean was on the line. Just mutterings of words that sounded foreign to his ears. The man had been doing this since he picked up the call a few seconds before.

Dean took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves and put as much friendship and warmth into his words as he could. "Hello. What's your name?"

The man paused in his murmurs, and the line went silent for a moment. All Dean could hear on the other end was the soft sounds of wind passing by distantly. Somewhere probably outside, he filed away in his mind.

"Castiel." It was so quiet that for a second Dean thought he'd imagined it. Castiel.

"That's a nice name. Unusual. What is it, Arabic?"

"Ancient Canaanite." Dean nearly snorted, but managed to keep his composure. This one sure was odd. It didn't escape his notice how short the man - Castiel, he now knew - kept his sentences. Nor how vacantly they were said. He'd need to try and pull the guy back to reality.

He'd been on the phone with a guy once. He never told him his name, just how he was feeling: like life was a movie. He was watching himself make the call. Dean could do nothing but assure him that it was real and convince him to go to someone he loves. Luckily he had a wife and kids. He wasn't alone. He' sounded like this guy does.

He thought back to the things they'd told him back when he was training. Maybe that month of late nights spent staring at Sam's laptop and having his phone basically glued to his ear was actually worth something. Keep them talking and engaged in conversation. Don't let them slip back into whatever black hole was inside their heads.

"Is anyone around with you at the moment?"

Castiel sighed, his voice growing even more wistful. "There's people around us all the time, going through their lives. But no one I know. Although I guess I don't know anyone, not truly. That seems to be my curse."

God, the guy sounded like a poet. He'd make a great poet. With that deep voice. A thought in the back of his mind nagged him, saying 'if he even lives that long'.

"Ok, that's alright. Could you tell me where you are, Cas?" The nickname slipped out before he could stop it. Castiel was so long, so formal. "Can I call you Cas?"

The man made a slight noise, almost like a hum, that Dean took as approval, but beyond that stayed silent.

"Please, man. I really need to know. If you don't want me to, I won't tell anyone else, but I need to know where you are." There was silence on the other end again, and Dean's terror grew. Why was he given such a high risk case?

"It's so beautiful, you know? The stars in the sky, bright amid all that darkness." He sent a quick prayer that the guy wasn't high because, come on, the guy sounded pretty high. He didn't really know how to deal with that. "I always wished I had wings, to be able fly and look down on everyone below me. To watch and observe without anyone expecting anything. To just be free."

Yep, Dean was going with high. Or, just so overwhelmed his brain had short-circuited. So he guessed the distraction method wasn't going to work, nor the 'just tell me where you are and I totally won't call the police' plan either. He needed to do something different.

"That sounds great, Cas." His mind worked through possible things he could say, but everything seemed to vanish. He was talking to a guy who might kill himself. If he messed up, that could be it. He could be actively responsible for someone else's death.

He tried to keep the strain out of his voice, to keep his careful image of being a nice friend who's just here to talk. But then he just thought 'fuck this'. He was scared out of his mind. Maybe that could be used to his advantage.

"Man, I'm really terrified. You called this number. You know what it means, who I am. Just, please, tell me where you are. I don't have to tell anyone, just, I need to know you're safe." He took a deep breath, pouring all his emotions out into his next sentence. "I'm begging you, Cas."

He didn't care that his voice broke, that he probably sounded like every emotional teenage girl in the history of emotional teenage girls. He couldn't lose this man, not tonight.

This seemed to strike some chord in Castiel, and the man's next words were almost sad, but underlined with stress. "I'm sorry if I caused you any worry-" he paused, as though about to say his name, then realized he didn't know it.

"Dean"

"-Dean, then. If it will make you feel better I can tell you where I am currently located."

He noticed the subtle shift in tone, from how downright dopey and distant Cas had been earlier to this now formal and stiff version. But he didn't dwell on it, too overwhelmed with relief.

"Yes, please, Cas."

The man took a shaky breath, as though steeling himself. It was silent for a another few moments. "Wagner Park, Lebanon, Kansas."

Dean sighed quickly in relief. That was only a few minutes away from the station, and he could've screamed for joy. "Can I go to you?" It slipped out before he could stop it, leaving him stunned by his own words.

"Yes, that's acceptable, but only you. Please, no cops." The man's voice nearly broke on the second sentence, his breathing quickening. Something else Dean shoved into the filing cabinet that permanently hid in his memories. That was the most emotion he'd heard out of the man in the past five minutes.

He did need to call the police. He hated lying to the guy, especially when he sounded so fragile and hurt, but it was protocol for high risk. Once the guy manages to tell you where they’re at, call the police and send them. Keep them on the line until the cops get there, but once that happens, it’s no longer in your hands.

But something was itching him about this. Something that had made him defy protocols and say he was going to meet him. Something about the way the man had reacted to the mention of them made him worried. There was always one thing that pushed them to the edge in cases like this. Maybe whatever it had been for this guy was related to the cops?

He couldn’t just leave him alone, not like that.

He didn’t completely process making the decision, just that his hands were going to grab the Impala’s keys.

“Ok! Ok, it’ll take me about ten minutes to get there. Are you going to be good until then?” He waited apprehensively for the answer, pausing and standing above the kitchen counter.

“Yes, I think.”

He heaved out a huge sigh of relief. That bought him a few minutes. He ran out of the small kitchenette, towards the bedroom.

Sam was sleeping soundly on the bed, his long hair falling over his face. Dean gave him a quick once-over, before running out the front door.

“Where are you in the park?”

It took him less than half a minute to get to the bottom of the stairs taking them two at a time. The footsteps echoed loudly though the stairwell.

“By the lake.”

He pushed the crash bar and the door opened. The night’s air hit him immediately, biting through just his thin jacket. He hoped Cas was wearing more; it was frigid out.

“I’m going to stay on the line while I drive, but I have to put it down for a second while I get into the car. Will you be good?” He paused with his hand hovering above the handle.

“Yes.”

He quickly shoved the latch down, and the door spring open. He sat down in the seat and looked at his phone. The call had only been running for five minutes.

He clicked out of the call and entered his mail. He typed out the address and the text of the letter into the box and sent it as quickly has possible. It was to his supervisor, detailing where Cas was and that the police needed to be called.

As he pulled the car out of the lot, he held the phone back to his ear. He could hear the soft crashing of waves, along with the soft muttering again.

“What’re you saying?” He said, before realizing his mistake. He added hastily, “If you want to tell me, I mean.”

Once again the whispering stopped, and that voice answered again. It was still flat, but now it had some inflection. As though the man was happy he was coming.

“It’s a prayer.”

“Are you religious?”

“In a way. My parents were. In fact, my name is from the angel of Thursday. But I personally never was. It just seemed like the right thing to do, given the situation.”

"Your family would never forgive themselves, if you, y'know, went through with it."

Castiel's reaction was immediate, and angry. "How do you know, Dean? You don't. You know nothing about me."

Dean’s head was swirling with questions, but he held his tongue. Shit, he shouldn't have brought up the guy's family. Bad move.

"Sorry for asking, buddy." There was silence for a moment, before he continued. "I was actually named after my grandfather.”

The man hummed again, a sign of acknowledgment.

Dean was unsure what to do next, what to say. Everything seemed forced, or treading way too close to the actual problem. And after what he'd just done, that was something they could avoid right now.

He could hear sirens coming through the phone’s speakers, and breathed a sigh of relief. The professionals were there, and things seemed to be looking a little better.

Except for the low moan that came from the phone.

“Cas? What’s happening? What's wrong?”

“No, no, no, no, no. They can’t be here. He can’t be here.” Suddenly Dean felt like he had made a huge mistake.

“It’s alright, ok? I promise, they’re just here to help you.” Rustling reached his ears, as though the guy was shifting position. He swore loudly, and pushed the car higher above the speed limit.

He’d said he’d come alone. He had heard the change in Cas when he mentioned the police. He shouldn’t have called them, or at least told them to stay back. He shouldn’t have done this.

"Cas, listen to me. I'm almost there. I just need you to go to the cops. I can meet you in a few minutes, and we can all talk together."

Maybe he just wanted to be alone for a while. Maybe he didn’t want anyone to know how close to the edge he’d gone. He kept that thought playing through his mind, pushing the other ones farther away.

He had to be fine.

He had to be.

But then the phone clicked. The call’d been hanged up.

Oh my god.

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

He made it to the park in three minutes. It took him one more to get over to the lakeside. He’d have pine needles in his hair for weeks, but he didn’t care.

He may have just killed somebody.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! Thanks so much for all the comments and kudos and subscriptions! I really put a lot of time and effort into this and I'm glad to see so many people are enjoying it also! 
> 
> Warnings:  
> Suicidal thoughts/actions

He held his breath as he got closer, willing him to be there. And be there while still alive, and not some dead body at the bottom of the lake. People drowned themselves more often than most think. He knew the statistics. They'd been drilled into his head during his training sessions.

Sessions that told him this was the exact wrong thing to do.

Never ask a subject about their family or loved ones unless you think they are in active danger from one. He hadn't brought it up, but still. He'd pressed.

Never talk about possible ways to die, or death in any form. Real nice thinking on that one there, Dean. Just talk to the suicidal person about how amazing it would be to jump off a roof or whatever that wing thing had been. That's definitely a good idea.

And never, ever, approach a subject. Stay wherever you received the call and alert the police. It's not your job to help them now. It's out of your hands.

For the past three months he'd followed every one of those rules to the letter. They made sense and were precautions to protect both the caller and the operator.

But somehow he'd ended up here, prancing through the woods like some fucking deer, running straight towards a guy that might already be dead. Who might have just killed himself, for heaven's sake, because of him. This day just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it.

His whole plan, if you could call it that, was stupid. Like straight, going-to-invade-Russia-in-the-middle-of-winter kind of stupid.

Step one: find Castiel. Somewhere in this huge fucking park next to this huge motherfucking lake.

Step two: make sure Cas doesn't kill himself.

There wasn't a step three, not yet.

He could see the police lights distantly, flashing blue and red through the trees. Something about the cops had terrified Castiel, but maybe if he reassured him it would be fine. Just, maybe.

It seemed luck was on his side, because it only took another few minutes of walking along the lake edge to find Cas. Or at least, a man he hoped was Castiel.

He seemed to be hiding behind a thick bush. Not a horrible plan, Dean thought. But, the officers weren't going to be discouraged easily from looking for a possibly suicidal guy given to them from a hotline operator.

Mindful that this guy had been through hells that Dean couldn't know, he refrained from reaching out and touching him on the shoulder. Instead, he said in a low voice, "Hey, Cas."

When he turned around, Dean took him in. He was pretty young; looked early twenties like himself, with a shock of black hair. Like, jet, coal black. His face was dirty, smudges of what looked to be mud on his forehead. He had been lying in the dirt next to a lake, though, so that could be expected. His teeth were also chattering. The next thing he noticed was his eyes. Bright, crystal blue, seeming almost heavenly compared to the rest of his features. Even in the low light cast by the moon and cars, it was clear that they were the most beautiful things he'd ever seen. He noticed they were blown wide with fear.

He was wearing a uniform that seemed to not fit him right. A little too big in some places, a little too small in others. A name tag proclaimed his name to be Steve -yeah, right- under the Gas-N-Sip logo. The white shirt was stained with dirt and mud, along with the blue vest in some places.

If the guy hadn't been so panicked and dirty, Dean might have said he was cute. 

Where the hell had that come from?

He stopped thinking when the guy's breaths picked up noticeably, and he held out a little razor that'd been hidden in his right palm. It looked as though it had come from one of those crappy plastic shavers that always nicked and didn't turn right and shit. An odd way to kill yourself, he had to admit. Painful, because those things are so dull.

"Who... who are you?" His voice was soft, whispered so lowly that Dean could barely hear him. His eyes glanced over quickly towards the flashing lights before back at Dean.

"I'm... um, I'm Dean. Y'know, the guy you were on the phone with?" He responded in the same low tone. Licking his lips, he looked back down at the blade. He could handle himself no problem, if this escalated. He'd gotten into too many fights during high school to not be able to block a punch. But he wasn't worried about himself; he was worried about Cas.

But the man seemed to relax a bit at the news, his shoulders losing some of their tension. Their eyes met and Dean could see that they still held so much fear. He looked a bit like a trapped animal.

"Do you have a car?" He asked, his voice still at the same volume as before.

"What?"

"A car. An automotive that runs on gasoline." The man deadpanned out shakily. Dean once again had to hold back a snort. There was nothing funny about this situation, he chided himself.

"Yeah, uh, of course. Why?"

Once again the man's shoulders loosened, but this time it was in defeat. "I-" He stopped, looking back down at his feet. "I walked here, and I uh.. wasn't really planning on leaving. But that's changed, and now I need to go. Now. Walking's too conspicuous. Especially with all those... police so nearby."

It clicked in Dean's mind, so stupid he could have laughed at himself. "You don't want the cops to catch you." A wave of doubt washed over him. "You're not some dangerous criminal whose going to chop off my head and feed it to his cats or whatever, right?"

The man nodded again, opening his mouth as though he was about to say something. But before he could, a flashlight beam lit up near their feet, and footsteps reached them. Dean glanced quickly over at Cas, noticing how much paler he'd gotten in the past few seconds. How his hand, which still held the silver at his side, was now shaking.

God, this was stupid. Why was he even considering this? It went against everything his dad had taught him when he'd been younger. Stranger danger, and all that. But this guy looked ready to pass out any moment. Or at least have a full on panic attack.

"Hand me the razor."

The man went to shake his head, but Dean just took a step closer.

"Hand me the razor and I'll drive you back to your house, ok buddy?" Cas still seemed weary of the prospect. He tightened his hand on it minutely, before handing it over. Dean could feel the warmth coming from the metal, before he shoved it into his pocket. "Alright, now let's get back to my car."

He watched as Cas stepped carefully towards him, shaky and uncertain. Dean turned around, hoped the guy was following him, and walked back towards the Impala. The whole time his breath was held, hoping that a cop wouldn't happen upon them.

What the hell was he doing? He could barely keep his breathing even as the implications of this night flooded through him. Losing his ability to volunteer, being arrested. Maybe being killed by this random guy he'd just invited back into his car.

He chanced a glance behind him, and saw that Cas wasn't looking much better. His hands were still shaky, and if it was possible his face looked even more waxy. Every sound his feet made sent him darting his eyes everywhere, as though he was expecting an officer to jump out at any moment.

It seemed like hours before they reached the car, despite the fact it was only minutes. He opened his door, and watched as Cas looked quickly across the black surface. As though he was confirming it wouldn't murder him the moment he touched it or something. But after a few seconds he seemed to just accept it, and hopped into the passenger seat.

The moment both doors were closed Dean pressed on the gas and backed them out of the parking lot. Within a second, they were on the dark road.

"So, where do you live?" He asked, looking over at his guest. Cas was sitting, staring out the window blankly. His entire body was wracked with trembles. Dean sighed, and pulled the car off onto a shoulder.

"Hey, buddy? You with me here?" Castiel turned, looking him in the eye before tilting his head. It looked exactly like a confused puppy, and Dean nearly laughed. Again.

"Yes, I am currently in the car with you. Isn't that obvious?"

"I mean, are you here, y'know, mentally?" He watched as Cas shrugged, before relaxing slightly in his seat. Dean took that as as much of an answer as he would get, and looked back toward the empty road. "Where should I drop you off? You got anyone who can stay with you? I really shouldn't leave you alone. "

"There's a laundromat up the street, on Evergreen. You can drop me off there."

"I really shouldn't leave you alone." Dean pressed.

"I am alone in this world, and you telling me it should be otherwise isn't going to change that. I have no one, and I need to wash these clothes." He sighed, then closed his eyes. "If it makes you feel better, I have nothing to use beyond that razor, which you now have. And besides, killing myself is no longer my intention."

Dean stiffened at his words. "Then what the hell were you doing calling a hotline in the middle of the woods while holding a blade?"

The man just bit his lip, and turned to look back out the window. He groaned, before turning the car back onto the main road and headed towards the laundromat.

"Are you going to tell me why you didn't want the cops to find you?" All he got in response was stony silence.

It took almost no time to reach the strip mall, and he parked in the empty lot near the entrance. Cas gave a quick nod of thanks, before rushing out into the store. It was the only one around with its lights still on.

Dean was about to pull away when he noticed that instead of taking clothes out of a bag or a washer, or anything, Castiel dropped to the floor and looked under the machines. After a little searching, he seemed to find what he was looking for, and stood up. Dean could just see that it was a coin. Odd. It seemed like a waste of time to search under the machines just to save a few cents. Especially when you're a guy who not an hour ago was going to off themselves.

Dean kept watching, because a growing worry was gnawing on his insides. It was only confirmed when Cas reached down and began to unbutton his vest. He slammed open the car door, and walked up into the laundromat.

A little bell rang softly above his head. It was so late that there wasn't even a clerk at the counter. None of the machines were running. Castiel looked over at him, surprised.

"What're you doing, man? You're not supposed to go naked while your clothes wash. That's why you bring your laundry in a bag, not on your back." The man looked sheepish, his head tucking down. A horrible thought wiggled into the back of his mind, but Dean shoved it away. No, that wasn't possible. It just wasn't. The man was cleanly shaven, and seemed relatively unblemished beyond the dirt.

This couldn't be his only pair of clothes.

But Cas' hands hesitated above the last button, seeming unsure. Dean just sighed, before shucking off his jacket. "At least wear this while they're spinning. I bet no one on the street wants to see that." He gestured vaguely.

The other man's face looked up, and Dean saw hope there written across it for the first time. But it quickly flashed into worry, and the guy backed away slightly. "Why're you being so kind to me?"

Dean couldn't think of anything to do -he didn't really know himself why he was doing any of this- beyond just shove the jacket towards the guy. "I guess you could say its my job. Although, technically, I don't get paid so.." He trailed off, uncomfortable. The guy was just staring at him with those wide blue eyes.

"Thanks." Cas muttered. They stood there in a few more moments of awkward silence before Dean spoke up.

"You sure you'll be good tonight?" He asked again. Castiel nodded. "Could you at least tell me your last name so I can check on you soon. The police don't know anything, and you told me yourself you're all alone. I just.... I want to make sure you're alright."

He was just met with that stare again, before the guy shook his head. "It's... it's too dangerous. I don't use that name anymore. In fact, you're the first person I've told my real first name in a long time. Anything more would put you in danger. I'm sorry."

Dean was confused, but the guy's face showed him that no matter how much pushing he did, he would not learn that name anytime soon. So he just sighed, then went to walk out the door. "Well, as long as you're good, I'll be going. Bye, Steve."

He took one last long look at the guy, before walking out the front door. This feels wrong, it all just feels wrong. He shouldn't just leave the guy, but what else could he do?

Something pulled in his chest as the bells chimed again. He felt like he was abandoning the guy. When he opened the Impala door and climbed in, a sudden thought struck him. His jacket was with Castiel. It was an excuse, a way to get him back. He knew the guy worked at Gas-N-Sip, and didn't own a car. That meant it had to be close to the park. There was only one in town. He'd just go there when the guy was probably working. Hide his true intentions behind the fact that he needed to get his jacket back.

Satisfied with his plan, he eased the Impala back on the road and drove towards home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that not too much happens in this chapter, but Tuesday's is a lot longer so there is hope.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all, it's already Tuesday again (feeling a bit of a mystery spot vibe today). Before you read the next chapter, I just want to say thanks to everyone who has been amazing with their kudos and comments, especially James :). I may have cried a little, it was so awesome. Hope ya enjoy this next installment!
> 
> Warnings:  
> Aftermath of suicidal thoughts  
> Panic/anxiety attacks  
> Minor injury

By the time he got home it was nearly 5:00. Sam was still sleeping soundly in his room, Dean was sure to check. Afterwards he went back out into the living room and grabbed the laptop. Although it was technically Sam's, it was the only computer in the house, so he had to borrow it from time to time.

He opened the screen and a bright light greeted him. It was piercing compared to the dark shadows of the apartment, and he squinted. He quickly went to the mail application and opened a new message to his supervisor. Following the outline they were told to use, he quickly filled out all the needed information.

_Date: 2/15/11_

_Operator: Winchester, Dean_

_Caller: Castiel (Cas) - unknown surname_

_Status: High risk_

_Outcome:_

He paused, unsure what to write. He couldn't say anything about helping Cas escape the police. So instead he just left it blank. His supervisor would ask him about it by the end of the week when she goes through the reports, but that would give him time to think of an answer. And to meet up with Cas again.

He had spent the car ride back thinking. About how he'll lose his placement as a volunteer when he tells his supervisor. Which he will, he kinda has to. Even though he'd let Castiel leave without going to the cops, they needed to know. If the guy truly had no one, then they'd have to function as a state-paid safety net.

He'd also thought about how downright lovable the guy had been. If they were in a different place at a different time, he might have put the moves on him. But he couldn't take advantage of a guy like that. It's just not right.

He quickly sent the email as a light turned on in Sam's room, signaling the kid had woken up. The water started to run in the shower, and Dean sighed. He'd really been hoping to wash those pine needles from his hair, but he guessed he'd have to wait.

He set the laptop down on the table and went over to the kitchenette. Pulling a bag of bread from the cupboards, he set two pieces into the toaster and pushed down the button. He watched as they disappeared down into the holes, each side glowing red.

He pulled out two more pieces, throwing a generous amount of peanut butter between the slices. He put the sandwich into a plastic bag, and left it on the counter where he knew Sam would see it to put in his backpack. There was only two more slices left, so he'd need to go to the store today.

Then he sat back down at the counter, and looked at his phone, thinking. Everything he'd done last night had been wrong. He'd gone to a caller, helped them get away from the goddamn police. Driven them to a laundromat, of all places, then left them there with nothing more then his shoddy old jacket. And somehow, he'd gotten a crush on him, to make matters worse.

Even now, thinking about those blue eyes sent his heart pounding erratically, and he hated it. This guy wasn't his responsibility any longer. If he had any sense, he should go to the police now, and tell them where the guy was, so they could at least put him on 72 hour watch.

Which he'd forgotten about. Cas himself had said that he had no one, and he'd just left him there.

Shit.

He laid his head down in his hands and tried to slow his breathing. For fuck's sake, at this rate, he'd be having a full on breakdown in a few minutes, and he couldn't have that. Not when Sammy was around and needed him, even if it was just for a ride to school.

As if the kid could hear his thoughts, the water turned off. Dean looked back up, ran a hand through his hair, and tried to look halfway decent. Or at least like he wasn't screaming internally. Then he grabbed the hot slices from the toaster, and put them on a plate on the opposite side of the table.

In a few minutes Sam walked out, fully dressed with his hair still soaked. He sat down across from Dean with a yawn, and began to eat his toast mechanically. Another couple of moments went by before he truly took in his surroundings, and he put the bread down.

"Where's your food?" Sam said, leveling a his eyes on Dean.

"Already ate." He replied, staring him down.

But Sam called his bluff and folded his arms, fixating on him with his trademark bitch-face. "Bullshit. Do I have to go over there and check how many slices of bread there are in the bag?"

Dean just sighed, trying to keep his shoulders at least slightly upright. Sam continued, "Did you get a call last night?"

"Yeah."

"Was it bad?"

"Yeah."

His little brother looked at him sadly, before frowning. "Is that a pine needle in your hair?"

He quickly said no, before reaching back and grabbing the offensive thing. Dammit, why couldn't he have taken a shower first? "I, uh, went for a walk this morning."

Even he was ashamed by how lame that lie had been, but he could tell that Sam was tentative to press. As much as he loved helping other people out like this, it was demanding. He's had days the past few months where he could barely comprehend the world around him, knowing of the dark and twisted things that lay just beneath the surface. He tried to keep Sammy away from that, but it wasn't always easy to keep the facade up.

Well, he wouldn't have to worry about that much longer, what with how he'd be let go after they knew of what he did.

Sam went back to eating his toast, finishing it before standing up and walking back over to the toaster. As he opened the cabinet where the bread was, Dean opened his mouth to protest, but Sam gave him one look and he shut up.

"Look, Dean. I know you're saving all you can to try and send me to college. But let's face it: you not eating two slices of bread isn't going to make or break that. So eat." He knew it would be hopeless to argue. Sam put the last two pieces of bread into the toaster, then just walked back over to the other side of the table, opened the laptop, and started working on his essay.

Once it was done, Dean ate his toast grudgingly, then put his blankets and sheets away, before heading into the bathroom. Taking the bit of privacy it granted him, he opened his phone and dialed the number for his boss at his auto shop. After quickly explaining how his little brother had gotten mono from someone at school, and that Dean thought he may be sick too, the guy was all too happy to let him take today off. Depending on how the day goes, he could just say that they only had the stomach bug and go in tomorrow. It also gave him the option to take off more if that was needed for some reason. He tried not to think too much about it.

Walking out of the bathroom, he saw that Sam was now reading a textbook and had a huge binder and several papers spread out in front of him.

"That your ethics stuff?" He said, taking the seat opposite. Sam nodded, engrossed in what he was reading. Dean watched uncomfortably for a few more seconds, before grabbing the Impala's keys from the center of the table, where'd he'd thrown them this morning. "I'm gonna warm up the car. Be out in five."

Sam just gave a little grunt, and Dean laughed before walking out the door. Confirming once that it was locked, he ran quickly down the steps and opened the door. Baby was still where he'd parked it two hours prior.

He rubbed his hands on his arms, trying to block out the cold. He'd given his only jacket to Cas, and while he was wearing a few layers, it was the middle of winter still. He kept meaning to buy another one, but every extra cent he had went into Sammy's college fund.

By the time he reached the car his teeth were chattering.

Climbing quickly in the backseat, he turned the key in the ignition and waited for the car to really warm up. He did this every morning, worried the cold temperatures would cause the engine to stall.

His mind was drifting back to earlier, and he glanced quickly towards the passenger seat. There was nothing there to show that a man had been there a few hours before, ready to off himself.

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out the razor. It seemed so much smaller, less harmful in the light. And when a suicidal man wasn't holding it. Although he was still a bit confused as to why the guy had chosen this way to do it. Dull blades like this were so painful when you had to cut that deep.

The razor was still being held by his hand into the sunlight that was now spilling into the car when Sam walked up and knocked on the window. He hid in quickly back in his pocket, certain he hadn't been fast enough for Sam not to see, and reached over to open the door.

Sam threw his backpack into the footwell and climbed into the seat. He looked warily at Dean for a few seconds before speaking. "Should I ask?"

He shook his head, before pulling the car out of park. "I'll tell you later." Sam nodded, and settled down into the seat. "So what's your test on?"

Sam looked at him excitedly, before explaining. Dean tried to seem interested, but his mind started to wander back to Cas. He was worried for what would happen later. Who knew how the guy would react to his stalking? Who knew if the guy is even still alive?

His hands started to shake, and he gripped the steering wheel tighter. No, nothing happened to Cas. He just had to believe that.

Sam had stopped talking, and was looking at him worriedly. "Y'sure you're alright, Dean?"

"Yeah. Yeah. I'll, uh, tell you everything later, ok? I promise." He turned the Impala into the lot of the high school and pulled up to the front. Sam grabbed the bag from beneath his feet, then climbed awkwardly out of the side door.

"But you're good, right?" Sam said, worry evident in his tone.

"Yes, bitch. Now go, you're going to be late." His little brother nodded, then shut the door and walked towards the front entrance. He shifted the car back into gear, then drove the car back out of the lot.

He couldn't go to the Gas-N-Sip now, assuming the guy works normal nine-to-five hours. So, instead, he headed towards the supermarket on the other side of town. He couldn't stop thinking about Cas, and those eyes, that hair. His heart beat faster when he thought of how it had stood straight on end, looking like he'd just rolled out of bed. Then it dawned on him.

He was crushing like a full-on, teenaged girl. He was acting like he was in a romance novel, all 'fast beating hearts' and 'batting lashes'. Well, fuck that.

He tried to focus on what was happening at work, what he'd need to make up tomorrow. Because he was going in tomorrow. He was. Nothing bad was going to happen today.

There was a Ford that needed an oil change, along with a Subaru and Toyota that needed their tires changed. Then he could work on his real love: a 1964 Pontiac GTO that some customer had brought in. Apparently, the guy had found it in the junkyard, and was willing to pay them to fix it up. For the past two weeks, it'd been Dean's little side-project. All that it really needed now was new tires, rims, and a paint job. Classic starlight black, the guy'd asked for. Just like Baby. He'd be sad to see it go.

It seemed to work, because in no time at all he was at the store. He parked and walked into the store, going to the bread aisle. He picked the cheapest one they had that wasn't totally full of shit, and walked over to the checkout. There was a old woman there, who seemed nice.

He paid, wincing at the extra $1.79 that he had to withdraw from his wallet. He knew it was irrational, that that little amount wasn't going to actually make a difference against the tens of thousands of dollars that he needed, but it was still difficult to part with. Even though the bread was needed anyway, it would have lasted a lot longer without him eating breakfast, too. Because now Sam was going to be extra watchful, so he'd probably actually have to eat in the morning for the next few days. He was already stringy on lunch, normally just have a slice of bread with a carefully measured dollop of peanut butter on top. He couldn't cut down any more on his eating without risking actually having problems.

The cashier seemed to notice his careful counting, and smiled at him sadly. He returned it tentatively, before grabbing the bag and saying thank you. He walked back out into the parking lot, stopping to check his phone. It was only 8:38, but he was nearly jumping out of his skin with worry. He couldn't wait any longer. And besides, the Gas-N-Sip was back on the other side of town, so it'd take a few minutes to get there anyways.

He got back into the Impala, turning her on and checking the gas meter. It was hovering a solid inch above the E, but he'd have to fill it up soon. He could just do it at the Gas-N-Sip. Another thing he'd have to pay for.

The drive across the city was excruciating, to say the least. He couldn't stop thinking about Cas, and the razor that was still in his back pocket. Why had he left him alone last night? Alone in that stupid laundromat with his stupid jacket. He'd been just so stupid. So damn fucking stupid. He'd probably walk into the store and find the guy lying on the floor behind the counter, the floor covered in blood, his clothes, that damn name tag-

He came back to himself when he realized he'd started hyperventilating. He pulled the car off the road and took a few deep breaths, laying his head on the steering wheel. He needed to breathe. He needed to breathe and then he could go to Cas and everything will be alright.

He took one last inhale, before moving the car back onto the road again. In a minute of tense driving, he arrived at the only Gas-N-Sip in the city. It was in one of the rougher parts, so the building had graffiti littering the sides and the windows had metal bars over them.

Dean pulled the Impala into one of the two parking spaces, and walked quickly into the store. It was relatively small, with only two aisles, a small fridge inset in the wall, and the counter. He spared a quick glance at the shelves. Everything on them was neat, like the guy who had organized them had actually put effort into it. Then he walked quickly over to the counter.

To his surprise, no one was behind it. There was a rotating pizza stand, and the wall behind was lined with lottery tickets and cigarettes, like any convenience store. It all just seemed so ordinary. Until the door in the back opened.

A man stepped out of what Dean guessed to be a store room. It was Castiel. His clothes were neat, and the dirt was gone from his face. The only difference he could see was that dark shadows now lined under his eyes that hadn't been there earlier. But he was alive. He was alive.

Cas looked at him with shock, which quickly morphed into worry. "What- what're you doing here?"

Dean held his hands out and took a step closer. Cas took another one back, stepping into the room he'd just came from. "Um, well, I just came to get my jacket." He realized how lame that sounded so just said the truth. "And I wanted to check on you, make sure you were ok."

The man's blue eyes blew open, and seemed to soften a bit. "Oh, of course. Your jacket. Thanks for lending it to me. That was... kind."

"It was no problem, Cas. Really." They both stood, looking at each other for another few seconds awkwardly before Cas hastily responded.

"I'll go get it, then."

He disappeared into the store room, letting the door close behind him. Dean just stared at it until Cas reappeared, now holding his green cargo jacket. He held it out tentatively, and Dean walked up to grab it.

At the change in angle, he could see past the door into the store room. He chanced a quick look, curious. A sleeping bag was laid out on the floor, without a pillow. A single bag was sitting next to it, filled with a toothbrush and paste. And that was it. Nothing else.

Was that where Cas... slept? Was that all he owned?

He walked forward quickly, barging past Cas, who was still holding the door, into the small room. The way the man flinched didn't escape him. He waved past him at the sleeping bag.

"Is this... Is this where you sleep?" He looked down sheepishly, cheeks tinged with pink. Well that answered his question. "Is this all you own?" They continued in silence for a few more moments, his coat now hanging limply in Castiel's arms.

A thought plowed into him, taking him by surprised. No, he really shouldn't intrude like that. But it was as though his mouth had a mind of his own, and he was already talking before he could stop himself.

"Do you need some money, or something?" He sounded painfully awkward, and Cas' expression told him all he needed to know. It was a mix of shock, confusion, and fear. "Sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

Castiel just kept staring at him, before he shoved the coat into Dean's arms. "I really think you should go."

Dean hung his head and grabbed his jacket, walking back towards the door. What the hell was he doing? He should never have asked the guy like that. Especially when they didn't exactly have money to spare.

He needed to fix this whole situation. It'd only been a few hours since he'd helped Cas escape from the police. Maybe he could just call his supervisor and tell her what had happened. She would call the cops, and they would come and take Cas into custody for a 72 hour hold. And maybe he wouldn't lose his position, although he'd already given up hope with that.

He stopped and turned back, seeing that Cas was still looking at him wearily from the doorway to the store room. He should wait here until the police come. With the way the guy had reacted earlier to the cops, who knew what'd he'd do.

"Look, man. I went against protocol earlier meeting you, and then I helped you run away from the police. You should be in a hospital on mandatory 72 hour suicide watch hold. So I really need to call the cops, and let them take you," He tried to ignore the way Cas paled and started trembling at that, and continued, "Nothing bad is going to happen, I promise. I just want to make sure you're safe."

Cas had paled even more, to the point where he was basically white. The tremors were racking his whole body, and he was leaning heavily against the doorway. His breaths were coming in fast and-

Shit, the guy was having a panic attack.

He started to mutter under his breath, things that sounded similar to what he'd called prayers earlier. If Dean had to take a guess, he'd say they were in Latin. Interspersed between the foreign words were little 'nos'.

His knees collapsed and that was when Dean actually did something. He ran forwards, hoping to catch the guy before he fell, but was a few feet short. His head hit the doorway hard, and Dean felt his stomach drop.

He crouched down next to the guy, watching helplessly. Those blue eyes were wide and frightened, yet unseeing. His breaths were still coming in short little gasps, and blood smudged on the doorway and the floor under his head.

And it was starting to pool and the tiles a bit, running in between the lines of grout. 

Shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, I'm so sorry for leaving you with another cliff-hanger! Just hold out till Saturday, it will get better. 
> 
> P.S. I just wanted to quickly point out that many of the characters throughout this are OOC, mostly due to their past and situations. I hope it isn't too horrible. Honestly, the only character I felt was truly alright is Sam, and that's only because he's basically my inner monologue whenever I write something totally outrageous (you'll totally see that in a week). 
> 
> Sorry, this note is super long. Hope everyone enjoyed reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! Once again, thanks to everyone who has been so awesome reviewing and kudo-ing (James :), you are officially the most amazing person in the entire universe). I hope everyone enjoys this chapter!
> 
> Warnings:  
> Panic/anxiety attacks  
> Minor injuries  
> Brief discussion of suicidal thoughts

"Hey, listen to me, buddy." He tried, waving his hand in front of the guy's face. Surprisingly, that worked, and his eyes seemed to focus a bit more on Dean. "I need you to breathe, alright?"

Cas nodded minutely and Dean continued, "Ok. Breathe in for four and out for six, can you do that?" Once again Cas moved his head slightly. Dean began breathing like he was telling Cas, trying to show him.

It took a few minutes of nothing but breathing for Cas to sit up, and even then he was leaning heavily against the door frame. His shoulders were still trembling severely and he was still looking at Dean with those wide, fearful eyes. He opened his mouth, licked his lips, and talked in a soft voice.

"Please don't call anyone, please. I...." He stopped, looking up.

Dean just looked at him dumbfounded, before recovering his wits. "Yeah, yeah no. I won't call them right now." Cas let out a relieved sigh and let his head fall back against the wall. When he moved it slightly, Dean could see that the white had turned red. "Can I look at your head?"

Cas seemed startled, and reached a hand around to his hair. It pulled away bloody, and his face grew a shade paler. He nodded. Dean reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, turning him around. He tried to ignore the sharp flinch Castiel gave at the touch. Brushing aside black hair, he found where the wound was, sticky with blood. After a few seconds of looking, Dean backed away.

"It doesn't look too bad, but you really need to go get it looked at." Cas kept staring at him, before shaking his head.

"It's alright, Dean." He tried to stand up, but his knees buckled before he'd even straightened completely. This time Dean was able to grab him, and pull an arm over his shoulder for support.

"Come on, man. You can't even stand and it's still bleeding. Even if I thought you'd go on your own, the nearest Urgent Care is across town. Why don't I drive you?" 

Cas shook his head. "You really don't have to-"

Dean cut him off. "Yes, I do. This is my fault, I never should have told you that." He began walking out towards the door, and Cas started to walk beside him, leaning heavily on his side for support.

When they reached the front entrance, Cas stopped him. "I don't-" He licked his lips and looked down. "I can't afford to go."

"I'll pay for it." Dean responded without a second thought. He knew it was the right thing to do, but that didn't make him cringe any less. That meant no breakfast for him this week no matter how much Sam bitches. And definitely no new coat.

"I couldn't possibly ask you to do that." Cas said.

"You didn't. I offered," Dean replied with a smile. Castiel just gave him a small nod.

They walked over to the car after Cas had locked the store, and once Dean filled her up with gas, he set off on the road towards the other side of town.

There was a few seconds of awkward silence once they were driving in the right direction. Cas was sitting next to him, looking out the window. The tremors had mostly disappeared and his color had returned a bit, but the blood was now staining the top of his collar. Dean had given him a napkin a few minutes before to try and staunch the bleeding, but it wasn't helping much. 

After a minutes, Cas let out a small swear, before turning to Dean. "I forgot to call my manager before we left. Could I b-borrow your phone?" He looked so worried about asking the question that Dean frowned. 

"Yeah, of course." He handed over his flip phone, and watched as Cas carefully punched in the numbers. A few seconds later he held it to his ear, looking over at Dean. He talked quietly, nearly whispering. 

"Hello, uh, sir. I-I had to leave the store-" He stopped for a moment, holding the phone slightly away from his ear. Even in the driver's seat, Dean could hear the yelling that was coming from the speaker. After a few moments it stopped, and Cas continued. "No, no. I, uh, I fell and hit my head-" Once again he cut off, but this time the guy on the other end was much quieter. Cas nodded, despite the fact the other person couldn't see. "Ok." 

He took the phone away from his ear and handed it back to Dean, shifting to look at the buildings they were passing by. Dean waited for a few seconds, and when there was only silence spoke up. 

"What happened?" 

Cas turned back towards him, his elbow hitting the seat as he was holding the bloody napkin to the back of his head. "They let me keep my job, and gave me the rest of the day off to rest." 

Dean nodded, and looked back towards the road. They reached the Urgent Care lot a few seconds later, and he pulled the car into a spot. Then he helped Cas out of the car and they walked into the front entrance. 

The lobby was mostly empty, with only a crying child and his mother along with an older woman coughing deeply into a crinkled tissue. 

He let Cas down into a padded chair near the window, and walked over to the counter. A middle-aged woman was working there. She gave him a clipboard with papers and a pen without looking form her computer and told him to sit down and fill them out. He thanked her, then walked back over to Cas. 

He handed the board over, and after Cas had shifted his napkin holding to the other arm, took it. Dean looked over to see what he was writing. He'd put down his name as Steve Smith, which was most definitely not the most generic name on the face of the planet. Everything else he filled out was pretty normal, except it didn't escape his notice that he listed his health insure as none and didn't put down an address. 

Once the paper was filled out, Dean brought it back up to the counter. The woman actually looked up at him this time, and smiled. 

"You guys friends?" She said sweetly. Dean just smiled and nodded, not wanting to give her any impression that it was otherwise. "He should be called in a minute, what with a head injury like that. You won't be waiting long." She gave him another smile, which Dean returned again before walking back to Cas. 

"The woman said it wouldn't be too long before you get called back." He said. Cas just nodded slowly, staring at the opposite wall. "Hey, are you with me buddy?" 

Dean placed a hand on Cas' shoulder. The man jumped about five inches, turning wide startled eyes to Dean. He took his hand off quickly, apologizing. 

"Yeah, I'm here." Cas said softly. The baby started its wailing again and Cas winced. At Dean's questioning look, he said, "I've got a bit of a headache." 

"Well that makes sense." Dean responded lamely. 

They sat there for a few more awkward minutes before a nurse came out of the back and called Castiel's 'name'. As Cas was standing up, Dean whispered, "You good?" He just nodded, before walking carefully out the door with the nurse. 

The next half hour was full of bored waiting. Dean sat in the chair checking his phone every few minutes for the time and when the back door opened again he was about to go up to the reception and ask how much longer it would take. But then Cas appeared out the back, looking thirty times more tired than he had before. 

Dean walked up to him and put a hand on his arm to steady him. Cas looked up to him and nodded his thanks, before walking over to the counter. The receptionist gave him a pitying look, before pulling a paper out of a chart and laying it on the counter.

"So, you'll be responsible for this number here," She pointed with her pen towards a three digit number that made Dean's heart clench, before he nodded. "We have payment plans if you need help covering that amount." 

Dean shook his head. He pulled out all the bills from his wallet and counted them quickly. It was just over the amount of the care, and Dean put the extra bills in his pocket before handing the rest over. The secretary lifted her eyebrows in surprise, probably because he'd used cash, but took the money. 

"Thank you for coming! Hope you feel better, Steve!" She said cheerfully. Dean thanked her for her help, then walked out the door. He turned to confirm that Cas was behind him. 

They reached the car, and Cas settled in to the passenger seat. Dean glanced over and appraised him quickly. 

"What'd they say? Did they do anything?" He asked. He couldn't see any bandages on the back of Cas' head, but his hair was long enough to cover the actual wound.

"They gave me stitches." Cas said shortly, looking out the window. 

"What about a concussion? They did check, right?" Dean pressed. He knew he sounded like a mother hen, but he cared for this guy. He didn't really know why, but he did.

"They said I was clear." Cas said in the same tone as before. Dean narrowed his eyes at the man. He recognized the way he said that, the same as when Sam wanted him to stop asking him. Generally, he was hiding something. 

"What else did they say?" He asked again. Cas shifted in his seat, looking down at his hands. 

"Nothing," 

"Cas, please" He let a bit of his worry carry into his voice. "Head injuries are serious, and I-" He stopped, because what could he say? That he cared for him? That he was scared for him? They'd literally known each other for less than ten hours. Anything he could say just seemed... wrong. 

But Cas seemed to get what he was saying and sighed. "They said I needed to be on concussion watch for 48 hours anyway." 

Dean didn't really see the problem with that for a few seconds, but then it hit him. Sam had fallen off his bike when he was eight, and the doctor had told them the same thing. Concussion watch for 48 hours, which meant cognitive checks and careful watching throughout the entire time. Which meant someone had to be with you. 

"Oh..." He said quietly, glancing over at Cas. He was sitting mutely, wringing his hands tightly in his lap. A thought struck him. But no, it wouldn't be possible. There's so many reasons for why it's not possible. But he does need help.

"Do you want to sleep with me?" He realized how that sounded and amended quickly. "In my apartment, I mean. I have a couch that you could crash on..." He trailed off, unsure how to continue.

"...What?" Cas said breathily, completely shaken. He was gazing up in complete shock. Dean couldn't blame him. He'd just asked another guy if he wanted to move in with him. In the most un-smooth way possible. 

What the fuck was he doing? He seems to be thinking that a lot today. 

But Cas' response still took him by surprise. "I can't. You've already done so much and it's.... it's too dangerous."

Dean laughed, unable to stop it. "Dude, I promise if I was some creepy stalker or something I would definitely not have brought you to Urgent Care." 

Cas gave him a small smile, before shaking his head. "I'm not worried for my own safety, but for yours." 

Dean tried to hide his expression. Well that definitely isn't super ominous. And creepy. 

"What'd you do?" He blurted out, before wincing at his accusing tone. 

"What?" 

"Was it a robbery? Kidnapping?" He continued, determined now to learn why Cas had reacted so strongly earlier. But he just couldn't imagine the man sitting next to him doing anything... wrong. 

Cas seemed to finally understand, and shook his head quickly. "Nothing like that. I'm not a criminal."

"Then why'd you get so scared of the cops? Why would it be dangerous for me to know your name, or for you to, y'know." He felt his ears heat up. Damn his stupid mouth. 

"It's complicated, Dean. But it really isn't safe for you to be around me. Please, just drop me off at the gas station and go. You shouldn't contact me again." Dean could only stare at him open mouthed. Like hell he was leaving now. 

"Come on, Cas. If you don't have someone monitoring you for the next few days you could develop a concussion without realizing it. And if it went untreated..." He stopped for a moment, considering what to say next. "You told me this morning that you were alone and that you didn't want to die." He left off the 'not anymore' that made him want to scream. "And I caused you to get injured, so if you- if you die from this, I'll never forgive myself." 

He stopped to take a breath, before continuing. "You're not alone any longer. And I know that sounds ridiculous because we've known each other for so little time, I know it's ridiculous, but it's true. I feel responsible for you." He chanced a look over at Cas, who was still looking at him with those wide, frightful eyes. 

The car was filled with a pregnant silence, the only sound both their breathing. Dean could feel anxiety worm into his stomach and make a nice nest there as he waited for Cas' response. The guy probably thought he was some creep or something. He would, if some random dude offered to have him move in, by literally saying 'do you want to sleep with me?' 

He turned the key and moved the car out of park, fully ready to drive Cas back to the Gas-N-Sip. This was another guy's life, and a stranger's. He's already interfered way too much and he should just-

"Ok." 

He glanced over in surprise. "Wait, really?" 

Cas seemed unsure himself, but nodded. "You're right. It's dangerous for me to be alone and if it won't be too much of a burden...." 

"No, no of course not!" He answered quickly. "Um, you can sleep on the couch. That'll be good right?" 

Cas nodded again, "Dean, I've been living in a sleeping bag on the floor of a store room in a gas station. Anything is an improvement over that, even for just two days." 

He laughed, relieved. "Do you want to swing by your... place to pick anything up?"Cas shook his head. 

"So mine it is, then!" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are the best! Also Sam is back in the next chapter, so get ready. Till next Tuesday!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! Chapter five already! I promise there is more happening soon. 
> 
> No warnings for this chapter

He swung the Impala out onto the road and drove back to the apartment Dean and Sam shared. They barely talked during the ride over, but it was an easy silence. Dean knew he should be a little wary of the guy, he had ran away from the police after all, but he seemed trustworthy so far. And based off those panic attacks, there was more to this than just him being a criminal. So he wasn't too worried about him killing them in the middle of the night. 

They arrived at their apartment and Dean parked the car in his spot. He got out of the driver's seat then walked around to Cas' side. When the man stood up, he wavered a bit, and Dean put a steady hand on his arm. This time, the flinch was a little less, he noticed. 

Walking up the flights of stairs was a struggle. Dean apologized profusely, explaining that the elevators been broken for months and the building manager hadn't gotten around to fixing it yet. Cas just smiled and said it was fine. 

They managed to get up to the fourth floor without any disasters, physically or otherwise. Dean stuck his key into the lock and opened the door. He stepped inside through the doorway, and looked behind him. Cas was hesitating in the hallway, looking unsure. 

"Come on, Cas. The door won't bite." Castiel hesitated a moment before stepping over the threshold. Dean could see him taking in their little apartment. The single couch sitting in front of the small TV, the kitchenette off to the side with their old table. Then the single hallway leading off the main room. 

Trying to break the weird silence that fallen over them, Dean walked over to the sofa. "You can, uh, sleep here. There's a set of sheets and a blanket under the couch. I'll get you a pillow."

Cas just continued to fidget awkwardly near the doorway, wringing his hands. Dean just continued, hoping to make the guy feel a bit more at ease. 

"There's food if you want some. It's past lunch time." He tried, ignoring the twist in his gut of using more food. Yep, definitely no breakfast. And possibly lunch. And lots of overtime. 

Cas looked up a bit at that, before shaking his head. "No, I'm good." 

Dean narrowed his eyes, but said nothing. He'd intruded enough, he wasn't going to force-feed the guy too. And he'd also forgotten the bread in the car.

"Ok..." They stood there for a few more seconds, just staring at each other, before Dean cleared his throat. He looked quickly at his phone. "So, I have to pick Sammy up at school. Will you be good by yourself for half an hour?" He was hoping that all this would go over better if he had a chance to explain it with Sam first. 

"Who?" Cas asked, confused. Dean realized he probably should have told Castiel that he didn't live alone, but it was a bit too late now. 

"Sam's my brother. Is that a problem?" He held his breath waiting for the response. 

"No," Cas said softly. 

"Well, then, there's a banana in the cupboard and the TV remote is on the table. I'll be back soon." He edged around Cas, who was still standing just in front of the doorway, and went into the hall. "And, be careful. I can tell you're still a bit woozy." 

With that he walked down the hallway and the steps, back into the parking lot. He didn't feel very good about leaving the guy there right after making a long speech about him not being alone anymore, but he did need to pick Sam up from school. And the kid would freak if he showed up with some random dude. 

He got back into the Impala and drove to the high school. Sam was already waiting on the front steps, and hopped in the car when he pulled up. 

"Hey Dean." He greeted cheerfully, pulling his seat belt on. 

"Hey Sammy," Dean replied, trying to sound normal and not like a bunch of shit had gone down in the past twelve hours. "How'd that exam go?" 

"It was pretty good. I mean, there was a question where I answered personal bias where I think it might have been societal, but beyond that it was good." 

"That's good," He took a deep breath, preparing to launch into what was sure to be a complicated explanation. "I have something that I need to-"

He was cut off by Sam's exclamation of "Holy shit Dean, is that blood on your shirt?" 

Dean looked down and saw that the sleeve of his flannel was edged with blood. A lot of blood, too. 

"That's what I was trying to tell you." He said, sighing. Sam just continued to stare at him with worried eyes, so he continued. "Last night, or I guess technically this morning, I got a call. A high risk. And I may have done something slightly stupid." 

Sam's face grew even more scared, and he pushed ahead. "I kinda went to the guy, which is against protocol. And I found him, at that park. But I'd also called the police and he got really scared so I also helped him... escape?" He said weakly.

He spared another glance at his brother, who seemed to be processing slowly. "So you helped a stranger, who called an emergency hotline, escape from the cops?" At his nod, Sam let his hand run through his hair. "Shit, Dean, he could've been a murderer or something. Please tell me you turned him in?" 

Dean just continued. "Well, I dropped him off at the laundromat on Evergreen, and he started stripping, like, right there. I think that his uniform was his only clothes. I, uh, gave him my jacket just so he'd have something to cover up with, and went home. And then after I'd driven you to school and everything, I couldn't stop thinking about how'd I just let a fucking suicidal guy be alone with no supervision, so I went where he worked, a Gas-N-Sip across town.

"Turns out the guy was living there in a store room and he literally had no one, so I said I was going to call the police so he'd be put in a 72 hour hold, like he should've been. And the guy freaked. Like, full on, panic attack freaked. He hit his head on the wall when he went down, which is where the blood's from. I took him to an urgent care and they patched him up, but they said he needed to be on concussion watch for two days." 

This was it. This was where Sam was going to flip out about him letting a literal, suicidal stranger into their home and telling him he could stay for a few days. 

"So I, uh, I offered for him to stay with us until he's fine." He finished with a weak shrug. He looked over to try and appraise Sam's reaction. To his credit, it was much mellower than he was expecting. 

"What the fucking hell, Dean? You don't know anything about this guy, just that he's suicidal and is terrified of the police. And you left him alone. In our apartment." Sam took a deep breath, as though to steady himself. "And even if the entire idea wasn't insane, where's he going to sleep?" 

"I gave him the couch," Dean replied weakly. 

"You gave him the-" Sam ran another heavy hand through his hair, messing it up even more. "That's where you fucking sleep, Dean, which is bad enough. Where the hell are you going to sleep, then?"

"Maybe in your room, on the floor?" 

"On. The. Floor." Sam said slowly. 

"You didn't see the guy, Sammy." Dean tried to reason. "He was living in a sleeping bag in a gas station. Me just mentioning going to the police made him basically faint, and I was the one that caused him to get injured." 

Sam seemed to take a deep breath. "Do you trust him?" 

"Yes." Dean said without thinking. It was true; he did trust Cas, despite knowing him for so little time. He just didn't seem... bad.

"Ok, then. I trust you, Dean, so if you think this is safe..." 

The last few minutes of the car ride was spent in tense silence. By the time they reached their apartment, Dean was happy to be out in the air. But as they climbed the steps to the fourth floor, he felt that familiar twist in his stomach. Sam and Cas meeting could go great or absolutely, horribly wrong. 

They reached the door and Dean fitted the key into the handle, happy to see that Cas had locked it after he left. Taking a deep breath, he pushed it open. 

There was nothing completely apocalyptic that greeted him as the door swung open. At first he couldn't see anything that was even out of the ordinary. He walked into the room and gave a sigh of relief. 

Cas was sitting on the sofa, albeit stiffly. The TV wasn't on, he was just staring at the far wall. He went a few steps farther into the apartment, and Cas noticed him. 

"Hello, Dean." He said awkwardly, standing. 

"Hey. This is Sam." He gestured a bit at Sam, who was standing warily behind him. 

"Hello, Sam." Cas said exactly the same. Dean barely held in a snort. 

Sam was remarkably calm, considering his reaction in the car. He stepped around Dean, holding his hand out for Cas to shake, but stopped abruptly when Cas took a step back. Sam recovered quickly, though, and didn't make another move towards him. 

"What's your name?" Sam asked cooly. 

"Castiel." Cas answered. Dean was pleased to hear him give his real name. Or what he thinks is his real name. 

"That's biblical, right? An angel?" The damn nerd said with more than a little excitement. 

Cas gave a small smile and nodded. "Angel of Thursday." 

"That is so cool!" Sam said. Dean laughed quietly. Yep, they were going get along great, barring anything horrible happening now. 

Now that the introductions were over, everyone was standing awkwardly, unsure what to say. It was then that Dean cleared his throat. 

"Sam, don't you have some homework to do?" 

"Yeah, Dean." He said, making no move. 

"And isn't that college thing due soon, too?" He pressed. 

"I'm going, Dean!" Sam said, going to his bedroom and picking the laptop up on the way. Dean just shook his head, before motioning for Cas to sit back down. 

"You haven't eaten yet, have you?" Cas shook his head. Dean walked over to the kitchenette and grabbed a banana from the cabinet, placing the new loaf he'd been holding beside the rest of the bunch and closed the drawer. He walked back over to the coach and held it out for Cas. The man just looked at him. 

"You need to eat. Unless you're nauseous, which is a sign of concussion, so if you are we might have to bring you back to urgent care." He saw Cas consider the options, before taking the fruit. He carefully peeled the yellow skin away, before taking a tentative bite. 

"Are you still dizzy?" He asked, sitting down on the couch next to him. He tried to ignore how tense Cas got, but still moved a little bit closer to the arm. Castiel just shook his head, mouth still full of banana. 

The next few minutes were just Cas eating the banana slowly, and Dean sitting awkwardly next to him. By the time the fruit was gone, Dean was fidgeting. 

"Where is your trash?" Cas said quietly, holding the peel in his hand. Dean got up quickly, taking the peel from Cas and walking over to the trash. Cas watched him carefully, seeming to register where it was in case he needed it again later. Then he just walked back over and sat down, and the uncomfortable silence continued. 

Dean could just hear Sam's keys clacking on his laptop from the bedroom. He reached over to grab the remote off the table and looked over at Cas. 

"You good with some TV?" He asked, holding up the remote. Cas nodded, still stiff on the couch beside him. He pressed the power button and started to flick through the channels. 

He settled on a channel playing an old western marathon all night. They stayed in that position for a few hours, until night had begun to fall. Cas had slowly relaxed beside him until his back had actually touched the sofa's. 

A few minutes before six, Dean got up to put some water on the stove for dinner. If he'd had anyone else as a guest he'd be worried about serving them his 'cooking', which even he knew was horrible despite being mostly out of a box, but Cas was obviously not accustomed to much, so he hoped it would slide. 

Soon the pasta was done, and Dean called Sam back into the room. The kid slid out, looking dead on his feet but with a huge grin plastered on his face. 

"What, you win the lotto? Find a really good porno?" Sam's face reddened. 

"No, I finished my college essay, the one for Stanford. And it's good, Dean. Really good." 

"Wow, egotistical much?" Dean joked. He was, in all honesty, extremely proud of Sammy. Given their circumstances and everything that's happened, he wouldn't have been surprised if the kid'd dropped out like he had once he was old enough. But here he was, busting his ass to make it to college, despite their hardships. 

He'd set out three bowls of mac and cheese, with him and Sam already sitting. But Cas was still on the couch, looking at them. 

"You gonna join us?" Dean said to Cas, gesturing towards the empty seat.

Cas looked a bit hopeful at that, "If I wouldn't be intruding..." 

"Of course not." He watched as Cas got up and made his way to the table, sitting down in the chair. Dean began to eat, along with Sam, but Cas just looked at them. "Do you not say grace?" 

Sam and Dean looked at each other, feeling very much like the cat with the canary feather, before Dean looked back at Cas. "Do you want us to? We can, if you'd like." 

"No, no, it's perfectly fine." He gave a genuine smile then, "Just different." And then he proceeded to shove a huge forkful of pasta into his mouth. 

"If you were that hungry you could have said something, Cas. We have food." He could feel Sam's stare boring into the back of his head, but ignored him. 

"It's just," He swallowed, then gave that beautiful smile again. "This is really good." 

He heard Sam scoff behind him, but just went on with the ignoring. "It's just from the box, Cas. You could barely even say I made it." 

Cas did that hum thing again, and continued eating. Dean snorted, before continuing to eat also. Within a few minutes, Cas' bowl was empty. 

"Can I- Can I have some more?" Cas asked tentatively. Dean smiled and grabbed his bowl. 

"Sure," 

It was nearly seven when they'd all finished, and after Sam had washed the dishes, they all went separate ways. Dean to the bathroom to take a shower that he's really needed since his hike through the woods this morning, Cas back to the sofa to watch more movies, and Sam to his room to put some finishing touches on his essay. 

Dean looked in the mirror after drying his hair. His eyes had deep dark circles that were probably from getting about two hours of sleep the night before. He slipped his phone out of his jeans from where they were folded up on the floor, and typed in his boss' number. 

He then spent the next few minutes explaining how, luckily, both he and Sammy were mono-free and that he'd be reporting to work bright and early. His boss was relieved, explaining about how he wouldn't let anyone else touch the '64 Pontiac while he'd been out. 

After the call, Dean walked into the bedroom and changed, then grabbed an extra set of clothes, before going out into the living room. Cas was still sitting on the couch, watching the TV intently. 

"Hey, you want my help making up the bed?" Cas nodded, and Dean pulled the sheets and blanket that had been neatly folded under the sofa, and gestured for Cas to sit up. Once the sheets were laid out, he walked back into Sammy's room and took the case off one of his pillows, ignoring his shouts, and replaced his old one with that. It wasn't the one Sam slept on, so it should be a bit cleaner. He gave the extra clothes to Cas. 

"These will probably be a bit too big on you, but it's better than sleeping in that so..." He trailed off a bit unsure. Cas was still standing there, holding the clothes. "You need anything else?" Dean finished. 

Cas sat down on the couch, still clutching the clothes. "This is more than I could have asked for. Thank you, Dean." He could feel the gravity the words held, and was uncomfortable with it, so he cleared his throat, muttered a 'you're welcome', and ran from the room. He could hear the cowboys' guns going off in the hallway. 

Dean walked back into Sam's room, looking at the kid who was still on his laptop. He hadn't been up all night, Dean supposed, but still, does he ever stop? 

After a bit of arguing, they managed to settle with Dean sleeping on the floor with a sheet and blanket they stripped from Sam's bed, along with his pillow. It took a bit of adjusting, but soon Dean was comfortable enough on the hard floor. He made sure his phone was within arm's reach on the bedside table. 

Sam closed the laptop, changed, shut off the light, then climbed back into his bed. 

"So, what'd you think?" He asked. 

"Of what?"

"Of Cas." 

"Oh," Sam stopped, probably thinking. "He was nice. You made the right decision, helping him." 

"Really?" Dean said, lifting an eyebrow despite the fact Sam couldn't see him. "So I was right. And you were wrong?"

Sam muttered something unintelligible into his pillow. 

"What's that?"

He muttered again.

"Can't hear, you need to speak up a bit."

"I was wrong." Sam replied finally, sounding defeated. 

"'Night, bitch." 

"Jerk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so there is only one more chapter in the first day (which somehow ended up taking over a third of the story over). See everyone Saturday, and don't forget to kudo or review! Thanks!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's posting day again! Thanks again to everyone who's commented and kudo'd, you guys are the best, as always. Now, onto chapter six!
> 
> Warnings:  
> Flashbacks/Nightmares  
> PTSD

Dean was woken up by a rough hand on his arm shaking him. He groaned, and opened his eyes. Once he blinked the rough film away, he could see Sam looking down at him worriedly. Well, that wasn't a good sign.

"Dean, something's wrong." Great. He looked past Sam's head to the window on the far side of the room. And it was still dark. It's like he's destined to never get a full night's sleep. 

"What is it, Sammy?" He said, trying to sound awake and alert and like he wasn't currently a zombie. But before Sam could respond, a loud sound that was heart-wrenchingly similar to a choked-off scream went through the room. Dean was on his feet in a second, all sleep forgotten now that a spike of adrenaline was rushing through him. A stab of panic hit him when he realized it sounded vaguely like Cas. 

"Stay here, Sam." He said, and something in his tone must have been enough, because his brother didn't argue. He walked tentatively out into the living room, wishing he'd been smart enough to put a weapon or something he could use when inviting a stranger into his house. 

He reached the end of the hallway, and took a deep breath before rounding the wall. At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. But then he heard the sound again, lower this time and edged with a groan. He walked farther into the room, and went to look at the couch. 

There was Cas, wrapped up in the blanket and tossing and turning as much as the small surface would allow. Dean noticed he'd changed into his clothes. He let out another short whimper, scrunching his eyes tighter and shrinking into the back of the couch. 

He was whispering under his breath again, this time in English. They were begs and pleads and it sounded so pitiful and broken that Dean wanted to cry and hug him and protect him just hearing it. Then they grew louder, and he could make out the actual words. His blood ran cold as he listened. 

"No, no, please! Please, it wasn't my fault, it wasn't my fault. Please," He let out another whimper, curling deeper into himself. "Please, brother." He let out a choked sob. 

Dean was finally ripped out from whatever spell had been holding him in place before, and ran up to Cas. He knelt down beside the sofa, and put a hand on the guy's shoulder. He flinched so violently that he nearly rolled off the bed. Dean was getting a sickening feeling that he might know what had happened to him. 

He tried shaking him, but he was still fast asleep and locked in the dream. He looked helplessly down at the blanket-wrapped figure, unsure what to do. He couldn't throw him off the bed of anything, he might hit his head again. But at this rate, he might also pull one of the stitches with all the shifting he's doing. There was already a spot of blood dotting the pillow. 

So Dean took a deep breath of courage, and climbed onto the couch. He lifted Cas' torso up, and then laid it back down on his chest until they were, for all intents and purposes, cuddling. It seemed the easiest way to keep Castiel's head safe while not risking straining his neck or anything from his body moving. He watched carefully to make sure Cas wouldn't freak out at the contact. He was still trembling, but his cries had died down into whimpers and begs, and he wasn't tossing as much. 

He took a quick second to confirm that the stitches were intact under his hair, before going back into the same position.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, and slowly Cas' body stopped moving and his breaths evened and he seemed to go into a more normal sleep. Dean decided to give him a minute more of rest before waking him up to do a concussion check, because that could have been more than a dream and he needed to make sure. 

Just as he was about to get up, he heard a soft, barely suppressed laugh coming from behind him. He turned his head to look, and saw a messy-haired Sam nearly dying in a fit of giggles. He could only hope the dark was enough to hide the blood flowing to his cheeks. 

"Shut. Up." He said quietly, before getting up from under Cas and laying him back down on the couch. He tried to shake him again, and this time it seemed to work. He turned on the light, and when he looked back his eyelashes fluttered softly, before parting to show blue. 

He looked around wildly for a few minutes, before settling on Dean's face. He seemed to relax a bit. 

"What happened?" He asked, his voice slightly hoarse. 

"You had a hell of a nightmare, man. I need to check to see if it was related to the whole concussion thing," He said, trying to keep his voice steady and not betray what he'd just learned. Or at least, strongly suspected. 

Cas blinked once sleepily, before sitting up. He touched a hand to the back of his head, winced, and looked at his finger. There was a bit of blood, not even close to the amount there'd been at the Gas-N-Sip, but Cas still looked startled. 

Dean quickly said, "The stitches are intact, but you did irritate it a bit." He looked at Sam, who was still standing a few feet away, smiling. "Get some gauze from the first aid kit, Sam. Oh, and also your laptop." 

He walked out of the room, but not before exchanging a meaningful glance towards Dean saying 'you will never hear the end of this'. Dean helped Cas, stand up and walk to the table, going right next to him in case he got dizzy. They made it to the table fine, and Sam came back with the laptop and gauze. He handed the white bandage to Cas, who put it gingerly to his head, and the computer to Dean. 

He opened it, quickly going to the internet and searching 'concussion symptoms'. A list of things came up, and he let out a deep breath. This shouldn't be too hard. 

"Do you have a headache now?" He asked, looking at Cas. The man shook his head, and he went on to the next symptom. "Are you nauseous?" Another shake. "How'd you hit your head earlier?" He did this to see both if his words were slurred and if he remembers. 

"I, uh, had a panic attack and hit a door," He said weakly, pink rising in his cheeks. Dean gave him a reassuring smile, before walking over to the kitchen and grabbing their emergency flashlight from a drawer. He then proceeded to make sure Cas' pupils were dilating equally. 

"Well, as far as I can tell you're still concussion free." He took the gauze, barely spotted in blood, and threw it in the trash, then put the flashlight away. "Sam, why don't you put the laptop in your room and go back to sleep? You have school in a few hours." His brother seemed to get his meaning, and went back to the bedroom after sending a wink in Dean's direction. 

He turned back to Cas, who was just staring at the tabletop and tracing the grain of the wood with his finger. "You wanna talk about it?" He said softly. Cas shook his head, not looking at him. 

Dean looked at him a few seconds longer, before getting up. "Ok, but if you ever do, I'm here." He cleared his throat, "So, uh, goodnight." He muttered quickly and left the room. 

Sam was still sitting up in his bed, waiting for him to come back. "So, you and Castiel?" He said with a smirk. 

Dean could feel himself blushing again, and simply threw a nearby book that was laying on a shelf with a muttered "Shut up, Sam."

His brother just laughed, and they both went back into their beds. If Dean strained his ears, he could just make out the sounds of the TV coming from the other room. 

If he was right about what he suspected.... his stomach turned over and he gave a quick glance towards the dark shape of Sam in the bed. 

How could a brother ever do that? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have finally come to the end of the first day! So much has happened! Hope everyone liked this chapter!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all, it's Tuesday again! I love you all and thanks to everyone who has commented on this story! Once again, I am truly astounded by how caring this fandom is! You probably don't want to hear any more of my blabbing, so here's the next chapter.
> 
> Warnings:  
> Panic attacks

He got up pretty late the next morning. Sam was already dressed and eating breakfast with his nose stuck in a book by the time Dean shuffled out of the bedroom. His neck had a horrible kink in it from laying on the floor, but he couldn't bring himself to complain. Cas had done this for who knows how long; he could take it for two nights. 

Cas was sitting on the made up bed, watching the tail end of the western marathon on the TV. Judging by the bruise-colored dark circles that lay under his eyes, he hadn't gone back to sleep. Not that Dean blamed him. He'd come to the conclusion that it hadn't been just a nightmare, but a flashback. And it sounded like it'd been a bad one. He was also wearing the Gas-N-Sip uniform again. 

He walked over and sat next to him. "Good morning, Cas. Did you eat something?" 

Cas looked over and gave him a small smile, before shaking his head. Dean got up and went to the kitchen. "We have toast. I could also make you my famous monkey sandwich." He heard Sam snort from where he was reading at the table. 

"What's that?" 

"Peanut butter and bananas. We don't really have that much else." Dean said, trying to sound nonchalant. He keeps meaning to buy more to keep in the house, but he keeps running out of pocket money. Bread and peanut butter and bananas are cheaper than most other things.

"I wouldn't want to intrude." Cas said softly, looking back down at his hands. 

No, not this again. "It's no problem at all, Cas."

"Then that would be very enjoyable." Cas said, smiling like that happy puppy again. Dean returned it with a little laugh, and got up to make the sandwich. He noticed that there was already four pieces of bread missing from the bag, so Sam had already made his lunch. 

After he grabbed the two slices, he was about to close up the bag when he heard a throat clear behind him. He turned and saw Sam staring right at him, his expression a complete 'you too, dumb-ass'. Dean sighed and took out two more slices, shoving them into the toaster. When he looked behind him Sam was reading his book like nothing had happened. Damn kid. 

They still had another half hour before he had to drive Sammy to school, so they all ate at the kitchen table. It surprised him how easy it was to just add Cas into their lives, almost like he should always have been there. 

Dean explained to Cas that he worked from eight-thirty to six at the auto shop, and picked Sammy up on his lunch break. Turns out Cas technically worked nine to five, although he'd spent most of his time either at the store or the park. But today he would need to go in early to clean up the store. Dean winced, remembering the blood that coated the floor. 

Dean offered to drive Cas there after he dropped off Sammy, but he was adamantly against it. No matter how much Dean tried the guy insisted he walk. The only thing Dean could get him to take was his jacket, and that was only after some serious arguing. Dean still didn't feel comfortable with him being alone for so long while still on concussion watch, but Cas said he knew his boss wouldn't let him take another day off, and that he'd been surprised by getting yesterday. Dean had made him write his cell number on his hand so he could use the store landline to reach him in an emergency. 

They all finished breakfast and Sam shoved his book into his backpack and they went out the door with Cas behind them. Once they reached the car, they said goodbye, and him and Sam got into the Impala. 

"I didn't know you liked cuddling," Sam teased. Dean felt a blush rise up again unbidden in his cheeks. 

"We were not cuddling, I was making sure he didn't hit his head or rip out his stitches or somethin' when he was practically seizing." He protested. It was true, but it still sounded like a weak excuse. 

"Yeah, right." 

The car ride took a century, and after multiple renditions of 'Dean and Cas sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G', they finally reached the school. Dean basically kicked Sam out of the car, and drove away as fast as he could before Sam could get the entire school singing. Because the kid would find a way to do it. 

It was still a little early, but Dean still went over to the auto shop anyway, hoping to maybe clock some overtime. Once he got there, he did all the things he was slated for yesterday and today that hadn't been done by another mechanic, before going over to the Pontiac. 

By the time he was on his lunch break, the car had new rims and tires. All it needed was a fresh coat of paint and she'd be all set. 

The ride back from the school wasn't any better, although this time Sam was speculating what their celebrity name would be. He seemed to be going back and forth on Dee-stiel and DeanCas. He was ready to throw another book at him. And this time he wouldn't miss. 

The rest of the day passed by relatively quickly as he painted the Pontiac. It would need another coat tomorrow, but after that she'd be all fixed. Dean would be sad to see her go, but hopefully they'd get another classic soon. 

And so just as night was falling, the Impala pulled back into the parking lot. He climbed up the four flights of stairs and went down the hall to the apartment. He unlocked and opened the door, then stopped. 

Sam and Cas were both sitting at the table with the laptop open between them, talking. Dean closed the door and they both stopped and looked up, startled. 

"Hey," He said awkwardly, unsure what he walked into. Sam and Cas glanced at each other. 

"Hey Dean. How was work?" Sam asked, smiling. 

"Good.... what's going on here?" He asked, glancing suspiciously between the two. 

"Cas was just helping me revise my essay." Sam said, practically jumping out of his seat. Dean turned his gaze to Castiel, who shrugged. 

"Seemed the least I could do. Besides, it's really insightful." He said smiling. 

"Looks like I've got another nerd on my hands," He muttered under his breath. "You guys want some dinner?" Sam nodded enthusiastically, while Cas shrugged again. Dean would take that. 

"Alright, I think we got mac and cheese or..." He walked over into the kitchen and checked the cupboard. There was one box of pasta and a can. He really needed to go to the store again tomorrow. "Or tomato and rice soup."

"Soup." Sam immediately replied. Dean agreed with him, but looked over at Cas before pulling out the can. 

"Cas?" He asked. 

"Soup's good." He said softly, with that smile still on his face. Dean nodded and pulled out the can and a pot from another drawer. He poured the soup in and turned on the stove, before walking back over to table and sitting down. 

"How was school today, Sam?" Dean said. 

"Good. We're still not doing much because midterms was last week. Except for Ethics, where we're already moving on to the next unit." Sam looked positively ecstatic about that

"And that's a good thing?" 

"Yeah! It's just so interesting . We're going deeper into societal bias first, learning about how society influences us even if we don't necessarily agree with it, just because its the norm." 

Dean nodded his head and tried to look interested, but honestly, that sounded like hell. That's why Sam's the one going to college. Because he will go to college. 

"And how was your day, Cas?" 

Castiel perked up at the mention of his name, looking at Dean over the screen of the laptop. "It was fine." He said, before going back to reading the essay. Sam continued looking over his shoulder, re-reading his own typing as Cas was. 

"Well, I'm going to take a shower." They didn't acknowledge what he said. "Make sure you watch the soup. It could boil over, or burn." They were still ignoring him. "Then, well, it may turn into a zombie and eat us all. Then the world would go extinct and the apocalypse would start and-" 

"Dean, I get it." Sam said, annoyed. 

Dean just grinned and went into the bathroom. He was still covered in grease and paint from the shop, and it felt disgusting. When he did come back out a few minutes later, Sam and Cas were in the same spots, and the soup was boiling and rising dangerously close to the edge of the pot.

He groaned and turned off the heat, checking quickly to make sure it hadn't burned, before grabbing three bowls from a cupboard. He poured soup into each one, before bringing them to the table. 

Dinner went by slowly. Every once in a while Cas would make some off hand suggestion or say 'good point' or something, but beyond that it was silent. Dean was just staring at Cas as he read, eyes flicking back and forth. His lip kept getting caught between his teeth as he concentrated. It was really cute. 

... And where the fuck had that come from?

After they'd all finished, Sam washed the dishes as Castiel finished reading his essay. Then they settled on the couch. It was Wednesday night, which meant movie night. Every Wednesday no matter what was going on, they watched a movie together. 

They decided on some action movie that Sam had been wanting to see for a few weeks. The lights were turned off, and they sat transfixed on the screen.

Everything was going good for about an hour, until they reached the climax of the show. Dean saw it too late, wasn't expecting the plot twist that it was actually a corrupt cop who'd been running an underground gambling scheme. The moment the officer stepped out of the shadows for the reveal, he was watching Cas out of the corner of his eye. He seemed pretty fine, although he got a bit stiffer between him and Sam. But his breathing was even and his hands weren't shaking. 

Until the guy jumped the cop.

It was the main character, the good guy. But it wasn't supposed to be an easy win. The officer flipped him off his back, and then proceeded to start beating him. Each punch resounded through the room. Dean turned fully to Cas. Now he was starting to shake, his eyes fixed on the TV. Every time a hit landed he flinched. 

"Sam, turn off the TV." Dean said, moving to kneel in front of Cas. Sam listened, and it only took a few seconds for the show to turn off and the room to be plunged into black. This seemed to make it worse, and now Cas really started hyperventilating. 

"The lights, turn on the lights." He added. Once the overhead light was on, Dean looked at Cas. His eyes were squeezed tight together, and he'd pulled his knees to his chest, rocking ever so slightly. He was trembling really badly now. 

"Cas, look at me." He said gently. 

"Please, it wasn't my fault," He whispered quietly. Dean chanced a quick look over at Sam, who was still standing by the light switch staring at them. 

"Cas, it's me, Dean. You called me yesterday? It was just a movie. You're safe, I promise." He reached out and touched his hand. Cas flinched, but his hand let go of his knee and clasped Dean's tightly. "Open your eyes, the light's on." 

Cas shook his head, squeezing his hand even tighter. 

"I swear on Sam's life, you're perfectly safe. Please, just look at me." He watched Cas carefully, and slowly he opened his eyes and met Dean's. He looked so frightened. 

"Dean?" He asked softly, loosening his hand slightly. 

"Yeah, Cas. Remember that breathing we did earlier? Try that again, ok? In for four, out for six." He nodded, before struggling to pull the breaths. Dean coached him through it again until his breathing evened out some. His trembling also lessened until he was barely shaking. 

"We're in my apartment on the couch. Are you back?" He said, watching Cas carefully. 

Cas nodded, blinking quickly. Dean could see that is eyes were glistening with unshed tears. He got up from where he'd been kneeling on the floor and sat next to him on the sofa. Cas leaned down into him until their shoulders were touching gently. 

Sam walked back over to them. "I am so sorry, Cas. I didn't know-" 

"You didn't do anything wrong, Sam." He said softly, resting his head on Dean's neck. His breath was warm where it was blowing against his bare skin. Dean was slightly uncomfortable with being so close to the guy, but if it made him feel better he'd deal with it. Their hands were still together, fingers twined. He met Sam's eyes, expecting more teasing, but saw nothing but remorse. 

"Sam, why don't you go work on your essay a bit more? I'm sure Cas gave you some revisions to work out." His brother seemed to get what he was saying and nodded, walking out of the room. He shoulders were slouched, head down. Apparently Cas' assurances did nothing to get rid of his guilt. Like it was actually his fault or something. 

"How do you feel?" Dean asked, looking down at Cas. He still seemed out of it a bit. 

"Better, I guess." His voice was shaky and uneven, barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry for disrupting your movie night." 

"Dammit, Cas, this wasn't your fault, or Sam. You guys are both the most self-blaming people I've ever seen." He sighed, shifting to get a bit more comfortable. "Is there anything I can do?" 

Cas seemed to shake himself a bit, and sat up a bit more till he wasn't touching him or the couch. He slid his hand out from Dean's. "I shouldn't have come here in the first place. I said before it was too dangerous but you were just so nice and-" He stopped, standing up. "I am so sorry for intruding, and eating your food, and-I'll just go and-"

"Cas, stop. It is safe here, really. You're not dangerous and you are _not _intruding."__

__

__"You don't understand, Dean. If he finds me, then you and Sam could be in danger and if something happened to you-"_ _

__

__"Calm down, man. I really don't want you to have another panic attack." Dean said, standing up and grasping Cas' shoulders firmly. Cas stared deep into his eyes again, and there was some trauma seated deep there, unshakable. "Who's 'he'"_ _

__

__"I can't tell you, it's too-"_ _

__

__"-Dangerous, I know, you've said. But why? Who is he?"_ _

__

__"He'll do anything to find me." Cas whispered, worry lines creasing his face that he is ten years too young for. "That includes hurting you. Or Sam."_ _

__

__Dean could feel a shiver run through him at the words and the implication, but fought to keep his face blank. "I can decide for myself if you're too dangerous to be around."_ _

__

__"You don't-" He let out a sigh, frustrated._ _

__

__"Then why don't you explain it, Cas?" Dean said._ _

__

__Cas still looked unsure, but let out a breath. "Are you certain, Dean? This is my problem and you don't have to get dragged into it."_ _

__

__"I guess I got dragged into it the moment I helped you escape those police yesterday." Dean smiled. "Please, tell me."_ _

__

__"...Ok."_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, I know! Next week will reveal all of his backstory, promise! I just couldn't resist another cliff hanger.
> 
> P.S. I have never taken AP Ethics so I have no idea what they talk about in the class.
> 
> P.P.S. I also never watch movies, so apologies for not naming a specific one.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, finally: the explanation of Cas' past. I know you've all been waiting for this!
> 
> I'd also like to officially dedicate this chapter to James :). You've been so awesome, sticking with this story for the past month and posting such amazing comments every chapter! Thank you so much!
> 
> Warnings for this chapter are in end notes to avoid spoilers.

"...Ok." Cas sighed, sitting back down on the couch. "This will be... difficult for me."

"Take as much time as you need." Dean said, sitting next to him. Cas just started to lean back into him again. Dean could feel that small tremors were still running through him. "You're safe. I'm right here." He put his arm around Cas, and he pulled even closer until his head was resting on his chest. He kept telling himself that he was just helping another guy through a hard time. That's all. Just helping out another guy.

"He's my brother." Cas took in a shaky breath, "His name's Lucifer. My parents were really into the biblical names." He laughed acidly. "There was three of us, me, Luci, and Gabriel. It was nice. I was the youngest, so they pushed me around a lot, but we were just the average family.

"I was eleven when my parents died. A car crash, one in a million type of thing. They were- they were driving to my school, to pick me up for a choir recital which I'd begged them to let me go to. After, we didn't have any other family, but Luke was twenty-two, so he took custody of us. He was a good man. He loved us, truly. He did everything he could to let us have a good life.

"But then, about two years later, he learned why Mom and Dad had died. He blamed me, and it drove him nearly mad. That's when it started. At first it wasn't anything too bad. Some words, maybe a slap every once in a while. Slowly it got worse and worse. He mostly ignored Gabe, he didn't do anything wrong. But whenever he tried to protect me..... 

"He was terrified to leave; we both were. Luke was controlling and oppressing and like a tyrant. It took four years for us to escape, to finally gain the courage. And that was only after Luke nearly killed me. Even then we were always looking behind us, on the run. 

"Gabriel had always wanted his own life, away from all of us. He loved me more than anything, but he'd been told what to do from the moment he was old enough to listen. He needed to go on his own. So once I was old enough, six months ago, he left. I had my job, a pretty good one, and should have been able to support myself. But I was stupid and let my name slip. I had to leave again, and all I could get was that job at the gas station and it wasn't enough to cover rent anywhere. 

"So that's how I ended up here." He let out another shaky breath. 

Dean was trying to sort out what he'd just learned. It all made sense: the fake name, the flinches. Except for one thing. 

"And the police? Did you think they'd take you back? You're not a minor, they can't do anything." Dean tried to ask gently, but he was still confused. 

"Luke.... he's an officer." Cas added quietly, pushing deeper into Dean's chest. 

"Shit." Dean cursed quietly. "That's why you were so scared of me calling the police; it would lead him right to you." Cas nodded. "And Gabe? What, he just left you high and dry like that?" 

"You don't understand. He was always like that, the trouble child, my parents would say. It only got worse with Luke. He stayed with me as long as he could without tearing himself apart in the process." 

Dean clutched Cas a little tighter. God, the man had been through so much, and even now hadn't escaped it. And he'd just made it all worse. Calling the police and everything. 

"Yesterday, I was just feeling so alone and so... disconnected. It just didn't seem worth it anymore, all the running and pain and everything, just for what? A lousy job at a gas station?" Cas laughed bitterly. "I literally couldn't afford anything more than a razor to do it with. And I wanted to make sure that it would work. No point in me ending up in some news cycle as the miraculous survivor just for Luke to find me again. So when I heard the police sirens, I knew it was too late. It took time to die, time in which they could have found me. " 

He was shaking again, lightly, and Dean clenched his hand a bit. Something to keep him grounded here and not drift back to those thoughts. 

"Why'd you call me, then?" Dean asked softly. "If you were set on it, why risk calling a hotline and giving them your name?" 

"I needed to hear someone's voice one last time. I needed to hear that someone cared, even if they were only pretending. But when I heard you, you sounded so genuine. Like you were actually worried. And so after you gave me your jacket, I knew I had to wait, at least until you forgot about me. I couldn't have my death be a stain on you. But then you kept helping. You brought me to Urgent Care, gave me a place to sleep and eat even when you don't have much yourself. And I will pay you back, I promise, for all that. So now... now I have something to live for." Cas finished. 

Dean was speechless for a few moments. The guy had just basically said that he was the reason he hadn't offed himself. 

"I... Cas, I don't know what to say," He finally whispered. He could feel his heart beating resolutely against his chest. 

They stayed like that for several more seconds, the silence hanging over them like a curtain, before Dean made a move to get up. They had exceeded his hug rules, if you could call this a hug, by like ten minutes. He needed to go back to his room and check on Sam or make some other excuse. 

But as he pushed to get up, Cas wrapped his hand tighter around his. "You asked me earlier if I needed anything else. Could you... stay with me?" 

Dean felt his heart stutter in his chest. No, he couldn't. He should give some reason, make a half-decent joke, and run away as fast as he could. But he couldn't bring himself to do anything but sit there in limbo, unsure what to do. 

Cas quickly sat up, looking horrified with himself. "I am so sorry, I never should have asked you something like that-"

"It's fine, Cas. I can stay, if you want." He was surprised the words came out of his mouth, but there was no taking them back now. Cas was still sitting up, looking shaky and tired and shell shocked and vulnerable. 

"Really?" He murmured, looking Dean's face up and down. He could only nod. 

Cas settled back down, this time next to Dean so they were both lying on the coach. It was an intimate position that made Dean's heart flutter. The sheets weren't set up, which was good because they were both still in their work clothes. It was early, only seven, but neither had gotten any sleep the past two nights. 

"Do you want to stay here? Even after the 48 hours?" He blurted out. He could feel his chest tighten at the words. It was stupid and impulsive but at the same time just right. 

"What?" Cas said, turning around to look at him. "But what about Lucifer?"

"Cas, no one is going to find you, and I'm not going to let you go back to living in a store room." 

"But-"

"Cas, please." Dean pleaded. 

He seemed to consider for a moment, before whispering "Thank you, Dean," 

Cas hugged him, and Dean could feel a flush rising in his cheeks. He settled back down after a few seconds, and they got comfortable again. 

"Why did you hang up?" He whispered, remembering the panic he'd felt when he'd heard the dial tone. 

"I didn't. My hands were shaking and the phone fell into the lake." Cas said back, sounding guilty.

"Your phone fell into the-" Dean took a deep breath. "That gave me a fucking heart attack, man!"

Cas just smiled, his eyes closing slowly. Within a few more moments, he was asleep, despite the light still being on. Dean watched as his chest rose and fell evenly, hand still twined in his.

He reached down under the couch and pulled out the large, scratchy blanket, laying it out over both of them as best he could.

Yep, he was falling for this guy.

Falling for the angel. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings (mentions of):  
> Past abuse, both of a minor and otherwise  
> Past suicidal thoughts
> 
> I'd just like to say a few things now. This story covers two very sensitive topics that I have tried to handle with care. Do not think that just because Cas has met Dean, he is instantly better and no longer is a danger to himself. He's just found someone to hold onto, something he hasn't had in a long time. If any of you have any issues with how I've addressed anything in this story, please don't hesitate to tell me!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Things are starting to get moving with this one! Once again, thanks for all the comments and kudos. We've officially reached over a 1000 hits!
> 
> No warnings for this chapter.

The next week flew by in a whirlwind. Sam's teasing never stopped, even got worse after walking in on them the next morning on the couch together. That had caused the whole 'Dee-stiel or DeanCas?' debate to start up again. It was so normal and perfect that by the next Monday Dean couldn't imagine how they'd ever gotten by without Castiel before. 

It turned out that Cas also had never learned how to drive a car. After a lot of explanation and teaching, Dean let him get behind the wheel of the Impala. Which was like watching a match hang around too close to a lighter. They'd managed to avoid any actual collisions, but there was enough close calls to make his hair stand on end for a week. 

He'd also been lucky on the call front. Only one, Thursday night. It wasn't unusual to get so few; they were a small city and they really only needed the one operator, versus an entire line. 

It was a young girl who didn't give her name. She was low risk, and just wanted someone to talk to. She'd seen the number on a billboard at her school, and spent an hour telling him all about her pet rabbit who'd died. It was heartbreaking to hear, but much less stressful than most calls. 

Then the dreaded Friday came. His supervisor called, asking for his explanation as to why he'd left the outcome portion of his report blank. After hearing all of Cas' story, he knew now that he couldn't just tell her the truth and risk her filing a report with the police. So instead of answering, he quit. And that was it. No more calls, nothing. Even though he hated basically abandoning everyone he could have helped, he felt a massive weight being lifted off his shoulders that he hadn't even known had been there. 

He was still sleeping on the floor of Sam's room, which meant the bitch was complaining non-stop about how it was messing up his back and shit. He had managed to convince him not to tell Cas about it, because with the guy as selfless as he is, he would trade spots in a heart beat. And for some reason, allowing him to sleep on the floor just one more night made Dean's chest twist and ache. 

They hadn't actually talked about anything that was said that night, or the couch sharing. But Dean's crush had still stepped up into a full on, YA romance novel level. He couldn't stop watching those little movements Cas always made when he was talking, his eyes crinkling and his hands twisting. Or how his heart lit up like a beacon whenever Cas did that happy puppy smile of his. After days of pining, he finally let himself admit he wanted more. But he needed to know Cas' feelings first, and the man was guarded with those.

So they settled into a routine, comfortable and safe. Until the next Sunday. 

Sam had some after school thing for debate club that one of his friends would drop him off after, so he wasn't at the apartment yet when Dean came home. He surprised by the light being off, the entire room shrouded in shadow. It was already six, so Cas should have been home from work an hour ago. 

He walked over to the couch where his coat, which was now on permanent loan to Cas for his walks to and from the gas station, should have been slung over. But the back was bare, the pillows neat and tidy. The blanket and sheets were folded neatly underneath. 

Dean could feel his heart starting to beat faster, his breathing growing more unsteady. This wasn't right; Cas should be home and his coat should be there and what the hell was happening? The room started to waver a bit and he forced himself to take a deep breath and sit down. 

Maybe he got held up late at work or something? He grasped onto that idea and held it tightly, feeling some hope return. Maybe some idiot had knocked over the shelves or the slushy machine needed cleaning or something? That wasn't the kind of thing Cas would leave without fixing. 

He pulled an old receipt out of his wallet and, stealing one of Sammy's pens, wrote out a quick note. It said 'gone to Gas-N-Sip, back in ten.' and the time. Then he grabbed the keys and ran back out the door. 

As he took the steps two at a time, the sound that went through the stairwell reminded him of that night not so long ago, when he'd done the same exact thing to save Cas. Although this time he wouldn't need saving. He wouldn't. 

The car ride over was tense and stressful. He could feel the fear that was coursing through his veins, the worry and the terror that came from it bombarding his heart. 'What ifs' kept running through his head, horrible little mantras that even after he found Cas and they were all safe would give him nightmares for weeks. 

What if he'd done something wrong, and he felt so lonely again that he bought another shaver and went out to the lake?

What if he hadn't been careful enough with the concussion checks, and Cas was unconscious somewhere on the walk back, slowly dying from frost bite?

What if someone had robbed the gas station and Cas had put up a fight and they shot him and he was lying dead on the floor, bleeding out. The red pooling under him and running through the cracks in the tiles?

He felt a shiver run through him. Every one of those scenarios was possible, every single one. And what would he do if he lost Cas? There just wouldn't be a life for him. A piece of his heart would have been ripped out and torn to shreds and fed to the wolves. He wouldn't be able to survive. 

He finally reached the gas station, and was tempted to fall on his knees and kiss the ground and praise the Lord because Cas would be here and safe. He just had to be. He had to be. 

He pulled way too fast into the parking lot, tires screeching and burning rubber. He could feel the car rock back and forth as he stopped it and slammed the driver's side door open. He ran over to the Gas-N-Sip, relieved to find light still pouring from the windows. That meant Cas had to be here. He wouldn't leave the place without turning them off and locking the door. 

The bells jingled as he pushed the door open. Everything looked perfectly normal and in place. Not a bag of chips off the shelf nor a pizza slice missing. All ordered exactly as Cas put them every morning, as he'd been so happy to tell Dean. He took a cautious lap around the back of the store, finding it empty, before walking up to the counter. 

It seemed as it should; lotto tickets taped to the walls and cigarettes protected behind glass cages. Nothing to show a robbery or anything. He chanced a quick peek behind the counter. He felt a bit like he was in a horror movie, half expecting some monster to jump out from under the desk. But nothing was there, just plain white linoleum, cracked and worn. 

It was a long shot, but he took a quick look in the bathrooms to make sure he wasn't there either. They were remarkably clean, something else he was sure Cas took great pride in. 

There was only one more place Cas could be: back in the store room, where he used to live. He tentatively turned the handle and pushed open the door. The sleeping bag had been rolled up and pushed against the far wall. The little bag of toiletries was gone, presumably thrown out after Dean'd bought him new ones - the old had been ratty and he'd felt bad. 

He took another step inside, looking more closely. There was just barely the stain of blood between the grout, sending him hurtling back into memories of Cas crashing bodily to the floor. It was obvious he'd tried very hard to clean it, though. The surrounding tiles were a few shades lighter than the rest of the store's. 

There was nothing. In some ways, that seemed worse. He fought to quell the rising panic of 'Cas is missing, Cas is fucking missing' that was spreading through his bones. 

He turned to leave, next steps already running through his mind. There was the park, the place where Cas loved to go when he wasn't working. There was.... 

He stopped. There really wasn't anywhere else. Cas had practically nothing. There wasn't anywhere he would go except work, the apartment, and the park. So it seemed the park was the best choice. Then he'd go back to the apartment and-

He'd turned to go through the back of the store, going between the ends of the shelves and the back wall one last time in case he missed something. Just as he was about to turn the corner, the bells from above the door jingled. 

He could feel his blood run cold, his hands beginning to shake. 

Someone was here with him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! It's Saturday again! Thanks for everyone who's sticking with this story!
> 
> No warnings for this chapter.

Dean flattened back against the shelf, feeling the corner of a chip bag dig into his back. He tried to reason through the sudden fog of panic that'd fallen over his brain. It was probably just a customer. Even though the store was supposed to be closed, the door was unlocked and the lights on. 

He took a deep breath, and walked out from behind the shelf. A man was looking around the store, still standing by the entrance. He was shorter than he was, with dark brown hair. He was looking down at his phone, typing in a message. His next step forward caused his shoe to squeak against the floor, and the man looked up at him sharply. 

The thing Dean didn't expect to see was the gun now pointed at him. 

"Who are you?" The man said, his tone low and dangerous. Dean could only stare at him shocked, before flicking his eyes down to the gun. He licked his lips nervously. This had to be related to Cas. He suddenly got a deep pit in his stomach. 

"Are you Lucifer?" He asked, his voice shaking despite his attempts to stay calm. 

"What?" The guy asked, brown eyes blowing wide. The gun wavered down a bit, no longer pointed straight at him. 

"If you are, mark my words, I will fucking kill you." The words left his mouth before he'd totally registered thinking them. Well, shit, Dean. That's exactly what you want to say to a guy holding a gun. Smart thinking. 

But the guy just put the gun down all the way until it was pointed down at the floor. "How do you know about him?" He said, eyes narrowing. 

"I'm not telling you one thing until you tell me who you are and why you have a fucking gun." Dean said, still watching the barrel of the gun to confirm it was pointing at the floor. The man seemed to consider this, looking at Dean warily. 

"Gabe. The name's Gabe." He said, studying his face for a reaction. Which he most definitely had. Holy shit. If this was Cas' Gabe..... something really bad was happening. 

"Do you know Cas?" Dean asked quietly, half scared of the answer. Gabe 's expression hardened at the mention of the name, the gun rising ever so slightly. Dean couldn't hide his flinch. 

"I'm his brother. Now, who the fuck are you?"

"I-" He stopped, unsure what to say. 'I'm the one that took Cas in after your ass left him alone'? 'I'm the one who saved Cas from killing himself'? 'I'm the one that has a crush on him but refuses to say anything'? 

"He lives with me." He responded finally. Gabe raised an eyebrow. 

"The nerd finally get laid?" He said jokingly, but there was a hint of sadness underlining it. And worry. Dean just blushed. The gun finally lowered completely, before he tucked it into the back waistband of his jeans. "So you know about me? About Luke?" 

Dean nodded, relaxing a bit now that the gun was no longer out. 

"Everything?" Gabe pressed, looking him in the eye. "His job and our... history?"

"As far as I know, yeah."

"That means he trusts you. And if Cassie trusts someone, I do, too." He gave a slight smile. "What is this place? Why're you here?" 

"He didn't come home after work and I was worried so..." He trailed off at Gabe's confused look. 

"He works here?" He asked, a bit of guilt creeping into his voice. It just made Dean angrier.

"Yeah, and slept here, too, until he almost fucking killed himself." He bit out, his rage coloring his tone. "He literally had nothing, man. Nothing. And you left him. He doesn't even blame you." 

Gabe looked shocked, taking another step back. "I-I shouldn't have left him, it was selfish of me. God, is he ok?" He nodded. "Well, he's alive, at least." He didn't mention the jacket or the lake or the hotline. The older man sighed, running a heavy hand over his face. "I came back the moment I knew, but I didn't-"

Dean cut him off. "Knew what?"

"You don't know?" He shook his head, so Gabe continued. "A few days ago, Luke sent me a text. I don't know how he got the number, but he has resources so I wasn't that surprised. At first, they were just taunts. I ignored him, but yesterday, he sent one with this address, along with a message saying 'text when you get here'. Obviously, I ignored it. But then this morning, I got this." He opened the phone back up, and after a few clicks turned it around. Dean could just make out that it was a picture, and took a few steps closer to see it. 

The room itself was dark, lit only by the light flooding in from the outside. On a second glance, it looked more like a closet than a room. A bar ran through the top, near the ceiling, where hangers should have hung from. A figure was slumped in the corner, unconscious and almost unidentifiable in the dim light. But Dean recognized the white collared shirt and blue vest that just slightly didn't fit. A hand laying on his chest had the almost totally washed off marker of the numbers he'd written there just above the rope that bound his wrists together. 

It was Cas. 

"I got here as quickly as I could, and texted him the moment I did." Dean could feel that familiar panic flowing through him. His knees were rubbery, and he gripped onto the shelf a little bit. He'd promised Cas would be safe. He'd promised on Sam's fucking life. The way he'd had those panic attack at just the thought at Luke catching him.... And here he was, bound and helpless at the mercy of that man. 

"Shit." He whispered, running a hand through his hair. 

"Yeah," Gabe scoffed, looking at the phone for a second before closing it. "Shit." 

"We've got to do something." Dean said, his voice wavering.

"Like what? We can't call the police. Luke has too many connections throughout the stations, he'd catch wind in a moment. And we have no idea where Cas is. So until he contacts us, we don't have anything to do but sit on our asses and wait." 

It was as though fate had chosen that moment to laugh at them, because Gabe's phone buzzed with a notification. He flicked the phone open quickly, looking at the text. He let out a quick exhale of breath. 

"Damn it, Luci." He muttered, lines drawing his face that hadn't been there before. 

"What is it?" Dean pressed. 

"He sent another picture." Gabe said softly, his finger thumbing softly over the screen. He walked up and put the phone in Dean's hand. 

He looked down, and his heart stopped. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I know there's been a lot of cliffhangers. But the next chapter is from Cas' perspective!
> 
> Thanks for reading, and comments and kudos are forever appreciated!
> 
> EDIT (3/31/19): You may have noticed there is now one more chapter in this story. At first, I was going to write a sequel, but I just couldn't figure out a good plot-line for it. So I made an epilogue chapter. Just thought I should make this clear. Thanks!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! This chapter is a bit rough, and is one of only two chapters in this story that warrant the rating. Please be careful. 
> 
> Warnings in end notes if needed.

The first thing he heard was the engine. It was low and rumbling, in a way that would be vaguely comforting in another circumstance. He could also feel the leather against his hands, vibrating softly. 

He could remember being behind the counter, putting the new shipment of lotto tickets into the container when something had hit his head. His vision had blackened around the edges before disappearing. He could feel that someone caught him before he could hit the ground, pulling him into their arms. Then he'd been swept under a wave of unconsciousness. 

He took a deep breath, and opened his eyes. As he thought, he was in a car. Laid out in the backseat, specifically. He glanced down and saw his wrists were bound with rope, wide and rough on his skin. He looked back up at front. There was a man driving, eyes focused on the road. Until they flicked up to the mirror, alighting on him. 

"I see you're awake, Cassie." Cas stopped moving, stopped breathing. Everything seemed to spiral and crash down on him in that moment. That was his brother. That was Luke. And he was bound in the backseat of his car, driving away to god knows where. "You evaded me a long time, longer than I would have thought. I'm sorry. Honestly, Cas, I am. It's just going to make it that much harder for you to pay penance." 

He felt a shiver run through him, his words pulling up memories that were buried deep inside him. He twisted his hands, trying to see if there was any weakness in the bonds. The knot wouldn't budge. He moved his legs, but they too were lashed together. His heart started beating harder against his chest, to the point where he thought it might jump out of his rib cage. 

"I was saddened when I learned what you had done, you know that. It isn't your fault, not truly. But the penance is necessary, and now we have three years of lost time to make up for. You've grown so much, brother." His voice was filled with a fondness that made his stomach turn. He'd forgotten how terrifying he was, because he thought what he was doing was right. That it was God's will. 

"Please, Luke-" He was cut off by his brother's shout. 

"You do not speak, Castiel! It is blasphemy, anything you say." He felt the familiar words ring through him, and tear at his soul. More words rose unbidden to his lips, but he bit his lip firmly to quell them. He got punished when he spoke, and he already had so much 'penance' that his brother will make him pay. 

He focused more on his breathing, trying to keep himself calm. He couldn't afford to have a panic attack, not now. An idea came to his mind, a stupid one. But at this point, who cared if it was stupid? Who cared if it was downright suicidal? Anything was better than staying with Luke. 

He shifted until he was sitting up, bracing his hands on the seat below him. He could hear his brother saying to lie back down and rest, but didn't pay any attention. He just pushed as hard as he could with his hands and feet, launching himself between the two front seats. 

Luke made a practically inhuman screech of surprise, lifting his hands off the wheel to try and block him. He didn't really know what he was doing, just attacking Luke with all the strength he had in absolute desperation that he hadn't felt in years. He could feel how the car shifted beneath him, but barely had time to process it before a horrible sound of metal scraping against metal echoed through the car. 

There was this feeling of weightlessness that went through him. It was reminiscent of his daydreams he had of flying. Wings that lifted him up into the sky and away from everything else. All the pain and hurt. 

But then there was a crashing sound, and he fell back to Earth. 

*•*•*

His head was pounding in a steady beat, similar to the tattoo of his heart. It was deep and booming, punching a wave of pain into his skull. Whatever he was resting on was cool under his hair, a bit of relief against the agony. 

He must have hit his head when the car crashed. He just hoped that Luke took the brunt of it. Although judging by his head and ribs, he didn't seem to be in good condition either way. He shifted his hands a bit, and felt that the rope was still there, binding his hands together. He knew that more was around his legs, too. 

He could feel his blood start to pump faster, making him groan. This was all too much for him, too much. His eyelashes parted slowly, sticky with the tears and blood that must have dried on them. And all he was met with was black. He screwed them back closed as fast as he could, panic coursing through him. 

No, please. Anything but this. More tears was flowing down his face, but he didn't care. He didn't care about anything except getting out of this place. He'd paid enough penance, sent enough prayers to Heaven or whatever damn god could be up there. And He didn't care. 

His hands were trembling now, causing the rope to shift against his wrists. It hurt, the smallest of pains that was just the tip of the iceberg. But that iceberg was really big and he could feel himself being drowned and crushed under its weight, pulling him deeper and deeper-

The door opened, and even behind his closed lids he could see the light. A shadow fleeted across his vision, and he tentatively opened his eyes. The brightness surprised him, and he squinted. He could make out that the shadow was Luke, crouching in front of him worriedly. 

"Cassie? You're alright, I promise. I already checked you over after the accident. Nothing more than your head and some ribs. That really wasn’t smart, kiddo." His words sounded like a hollow echo of Dean's. Dean. He wished it was Dean's voice speaking to him. "I have to start your penance, now. I'm sorry, but you must be cleansed." He stood up, and Cas cringed farther into the wall. He let out a low whimper, unwilling to part his lips to form words. That'd make everything worse, so much worse. 

Luke closed the closet door, leaving Cas back in complete black. His mind was replaying all the past times he'd had his sight stolen away. Normally he at least had Gabe just outside, comforting him through the door. Now he has no one. 

It seemed like an eternity before the door opened again. An eternity with just his thoughts and fears racing through him. He was calmer than he'd thought he'd be. He was still conscious, still aware and not a crying mess on the floor, eyes staring at nothing. Those days were some of the worse ones that he could remember, but some of the few that had relief. 

The light flooded back in, haloing around Luke like he was some angel appearing from heaven. His namesake seemed appropriate, then. An angel fallen from grace for doing what he believed to be best. Fitting. 

It wasn't his fault, none of this was. After Mom and Dad had died, he cracked. Each extra struggle he faced wore his facade further, pushing more and more dents into his surface. Learning that his little brother had been the root cause of their death was what had finally broken him apart. But his religion had given him a way to rebuild. The Luke facing him now is not his brother, but some monster that was only doing what he thought was right. 

"Cas, you know I love you. God loves and forgives all his sheep, but only those that are pure. You have sin flowing through your veins, and I will do anything in my power to purify you. And for that you must pay penance through pain." The words were a familiar mantra of his. Penance through pain will purify. Any kind of pain seems to do. 

He wasn't carrying anything at the moment, so it seemed a beating was today. He could handle that- he had to handle that. It would get so much worse later. 

Luke grabbed his shoulder and pulled him out of closet and onto the carpeted floor. He chanced a quick glance around the room. There were two beds, and some bad wallpaper. A motel, then. It seemed comforting, almost. At least this wasn't taking place in anywhere it could forever tarnish any memories. 

He tried to crawl away, knowing exactly how useless it was. Luke just grabbed his wrist, twisting it until his knees collapsed and he was laying on the floor, helpless in his agony. 

First hit was a shock. Pain that he hadn't felt in three years suddenly spreading through his lower back. It wasn't too bad, barely enough to be. 

Then he really got into it. The minutes passed into seconds and hours, stretching out into the eternity and fluidity of time. It seemed to pass in a moment and a millennia. 

*•*•*

The next time he was truly conscious, he was back in the closet. The door closed and the black total once again, and he was alone with his pain. It burns through his chest and lungs, sharpening with each breath that racks through his ruined rib cage. Something had to be even more broken there than it had before. 

His wrist, still bound in the rope, throbbed and ached in a way he knew would get worse in the coming hours. Seemed something was probably broken there, too. 

The words were slipping out before he could stop them. Words that he'd learned years before, still a child devout in his faith. 

" _ignosce me quia dominus quia peccavi _" His lips moved as he murmured the words, almost silent. If Luke heard that he was speaking, in the Lord's language no less, everything would fall apart.__

__

__Another wave of agony spread over him, washing like a tsunami over a town. He let out a groan, arching his back in an attempt to get away from the pain._ _

__

__And then he prayed, prayed to God, prayed to Gabe. Prayed to Dean. Prayed to anyone who could be listening. Prayed that he could be saved._ _

__

__Prayed for his sin to be washed away._ _

__

__Penance through pain will purify._ _

__

__Penance through pain._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> Off-screen abuse, but it is heavily alluded to. 
> 
> ignosce me quia dominus quia peccavi: Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned (or at least as close as google translate can get). 
> 
> I know I've said this before, but I'd like to re-iterate that I have tried to handle the discussions of abuse and mental health issues carefully and to not beautify them. If you have any issues with anything I have written, please don't hesitate to tell me. PSA over. 
> 
> Saturday we'll find out what Dean, Sam, and Gabe are up to! Thanks for reading (and sorry for all the notes)!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all, it's posting day again! 
> 
> Warnings:  
> Short allusion to Cas' previous suicidal thoughts.   
> Non-graphic discussion of abuse and injuries from abuse

Dean's breath caught in his throat, and he let out a small gasp. The picture that Luke had just sent to Gabe's phone was lighter, as though another light had been turned on in the room. He could see more of Cas now, although he wasn't sure if that was a blessing or a curse. 

He was still lying in the corner, slumped down ever more than before. His hair had flopped in front of his face, but he could still make out a livid bruise on his forehead. A bit of blood trickled from his lip, split. His hands had fallen down to his side, bound together with that thick rope he'd already seen. One wrist was swelled and red, the bonds cutting painfully into it. 

He looked like hell. Unconscious, Dean prayed. Yeah, just unconscious. Gabe was looking at him as though judging his reaction, but he just couldn't stop looking at the picture. And Cas. The man, who'd been so happy a few days earlier at damn mac and cheese looked so... defeated? As though all his hope and will had been sucked out of him the moment his brother got him. 

His words ran through Dean's head, nearly causing fucking tears to well up in his eyes. Boiled down, a jacket had saved the man's life. A green cargo jacket. Without that he would be buried somewhere in a pauper's grave, no one knowing that a light had gone out in the world. And that was after three years away from Luke. Now, back in his clutches? Who knew how that would affect him? 

He was pulled from his thoughts by his phone ringing in his back pocket. He took one more, long look at Cas' beat up body, before handing the phone back to Gabe and grabbing his own. He took a quick look at the caller ID, and sighed when he saw Sammy's name pop up. 

"Hey Dean. I just got back and it's been like twenty minutes? Are you at the station or-" Sam sounded fine, only a slight undercurrent of worry giving way that anything was wrong. 

Dean cut him off, "Sam, lock the door." 

"What? What's going on?" 

"It's a long story, I'll tell you later. Just... listen to me. I'll be there in five." He hung up the phone, looking towards Gabe. He had a questioning look on his face. 

"That was my little brother. Just, what're we going to do?" He ran a hand through his hair. "We still can't go to the police, right? It's not like we're some vigilantes that can bust in there and save him." 

"He wants me, Dean. That's his end goal: all three of us together, in some sick version of a happy family. He doesn't know that what he's doing is wrong." Gabe just sounded tired, way too old for a guy who couldn't be more than twenty-five. "Right now, we've got to play along. He's got all the cards in this game, he always has." 

"So, what? We're just going to wait with our thumbs up our asses while Cas is out there somewhere, getting beat up and who knows what else?" He could feel the anger that rose in him like a wave. At Luke for being such a bastard, the world for doing this to someone so kind. Gabe was just there to take it out on. 

"He is _my _little brother, Dean. I would do anything for him not to have to go through this again." Gabriel's voice was like acid, and he leaned in closer until there faces were practically touching. "But we have nothing. No leads, nada. I know him. And he wants me. So that's what we'll give him."__

__

__"We're not giving you up, either."_ _

__

__"He'll have to give us a location to meet him at some point. When he does-"_ _

__

__"What, you'll shoot him?" Dean scoffed._ _

__

__"If I have to." Gabriel shot back, his face cold. "To save Cas, yeah."_ _

__

__Dean just looked at him for a few seconds, assessing, before putting his phone back in his pocket. "Sam's waiting for me back at my apartment. Do you have a car?"_ _

__

__"Yeah. I'll follow behind."_ _

__

__They walked out of the Gas-N-Sip and to their cars, driving out of the parking lot. Dean couldn't stop running that image of Cas through his head. Beaten and bloody. Held by the man he feared the most. He'd had a panic attack watching a police officer beat someone up in a movie, for fuck's sake. From what Gabe had told him, Luke sounded fanatical. He'd ripped that family apart while thinking he was putting it back together. A man like that was more dangerous than someone who knew what they'd done was wrong._ _

__

__He checked every few moments in the rear view mirror to make sure that Gabe's car was still following him. But it kept its pace the rest if the ride, matching him perfectly. By the time he pulled into the apartment's lot, he was shaking with worry. What if Gabe got another message while they'd been driving?_ _

__

__They met at the door, pulling it and walking into the stairwell._ _

__

__"Anything new?" He said, starting to take the steps two at a time. It's already been way over the five minutes he'd promised Sammy, and he knew the kid was probably worried and angry with his short explanation._ _

__

__"No, he's been silent since the photo." Gabe replied, taking the steps just as fast._ _

__

__They reached the fourth floor within a minute, and Dean pushed the key into the lock as fast he could. At least Sam had followed his advice on that front._ _

__

__Sam was sitting at the table, tuning his phone over and over in his hands. He looked up when the door opened, scrambling off the seat and towards the door._ _

__

__"Dean, what the fuck is happening. You tell me to lock the door than just hang up like that and-" He cut off sharply when he saw Gabe, his eyes widening. "Who's that?"_ _

__

__"This is Gabe, Cas' brother." After Cas had told him about his past, he'd decided not to tell Sammy everything. Just to be careful around him and not mention the police. Sam had pressed him, but he'd only added that his family had hurt him. He knew he was treating him more like a child than he should, but Cas' story just seemed so close to how their's could have been._ _

__

__Sam went a step closer, hatred boiling just behind his eyes. Dean stepped forward, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Gabe's good."_ _

__

__"What happened?" Sam asked quietly, the anger dissipating from his face and being replaced with worry. "Where's Cas?"_ _

__

__"He's been taken by my other brother." Gabe offered from behind him._ _

__

__"Shit." Sam exclaimed, sitting back down at the table. "Shouldn't we be calling the police"_ _

__

__"We can't. Luke, he's a police officer. We can't do anything through official channels without risking him finding out."_ _

__

__"How'd you know, then, that this Luke has him?"_ _

__

__"Gabriel got sent a picture." Dean said, walking over to the table and sitting down himself. Gabe was still standing a bit uncomfortably by the door._ _

__

__"Show me." Sam said, looking towards Gabe. "There might be something there that could help us find him. If we can't go through the cops, maybe we can find him ourselves."_ _

__

__"Sam-"_ _

__

__His brother seemed to understand his meaning, and fixed his best bitch-face on him. "I'm not a child anymore, Dean. Cas is my friend."_ _

__

__Dean gave in with a sigh, knowing he wasn't going to drop it, and looked towards Gabriel. He walked over to them, and handed Sam his phone. His little brother looked at the first picture with some worry in his face, before flipping to the next one. Dean could see the anger and terror that crossed over it in that moment, before he took a calming breath and looked closer._ _

__

__After a few minutes of tense silence, Sam handed the phone back to Gabe. "I can't see anything that's identifying. Although, it is a small closet, probably not one you'd find in a house. Maybe a hotel or something?"_ _

__

__It made sense, but it didn't help them that much anyway. There were at least four motels in the town, and that's if he's even still here, which is a huge fucking if. He gave Sam a little smile nonetheless._ _

__

__"So what's are we going to do?" Sam said, looking between them. They just sat in silence for a few moments before Sam spoke up again, his voice's pitch rising. "We are going to go something, right? We're not just going to abandon Cas?"_ _

__

__"Sam, we'll figure something out, ok? We'll find him."_ _

__

__Sam just looked at him skeptically. "Can I talk to you?" Dean gave him a wary glance, and walked over with hmi towards his bedroom. Sam closed the door, before turning towards him._ _

__

__"Are we really going to do this on our own? That's like a bad action movie plot, and you know how accurate those things are. How the fuck are we going to save Cas, then somehow beat his crazy, police officer brother?"_ _

__

__Sam was saying every though that was running through Dean's head. He was right: they were literally a mechanic, a nerd, and an asshole with a gun. It sounded exactly like the description of a B movie._ _

__

__"I don't know, Sam. But we are not just going to give up on Cas. Gabe's right; if Luke has feelers throughout the cops, its not like we can stroll right in there and ask for help. The moment anyone gets a lead, they would just move." He took a deep breath. "This is dangerous and frankly, fucking insane. I have no idea what I'm doing, kid. I just..."_ _

__

__Sam gave him a knowing look. "How are you doing with all this?" He asked gently._ _

__

__Dean gave him a long look, before sitting on the bed and putting his face in his hands, mumbling. "I'm friggin' falling apart." He felt the bed dip down and a hand on his shoulder._ _

__

__"We'll figure this out, ok? Cas will be fine and everything will go back to normal." Sam chuckled. "Well, as normal as the past week has been. I can't believe we've only known Cas for that long."_ _

__

__"Yeah, it's amazing." He said, smiling a bit. "We've been having mac and cheese practically every night."_ _

__

__"One of these days, we're all just going to have a heart attack and die from your cooking." Sam said lightly._ _

__

__"If that's the way I die, I'll be a happy man." He shifted a bit, feeling something in his back pocket. He stood up and grabbed it, but before he pulled it out, he bit back a gasp and let go._ _

__

__"What is it?" Sam said, standing up also._ _

__

__"Nothing, it was nothing." He said quickly. "We shouldn't leave Gabe waiting any longer." He opened the door and waited for Sam to go out first, before looking down at his hand._ _

__

__A small line of blood was rising to the surface from the cut that had ripped its way onto his finger. The razor that Cas had had was still in the back pocket of these jeans, despite them having been washed. He grabbed it carefully, studying the metal. The barest of dots of red was on the edge, evidence of where it had cut him._ _

__

__He shoved it back into his pocket when Sam called, "Dean?" and walked out of the room, closing the door carefully behind him. He needed Cas to be alright, he needed him to be._ _

__

__But a dark corner of his mind was taunting him, saying that even if they get Cas away from Lucifer, he would never be the same. Who knew if that blade would be lined with blood again?_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! Tuesday will bring another Cas chapter!
> 
> (Shameless plug ahead, skip if you don't care) I posted another story called Just Another Illusion that's a fix-it for 12x2, so if you're in the mood, go and check that out!
> 
> As always thanks for reading and kudo-ing and commenting.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! It's Tuesday again which means.... another chapter! Thanks to anyone who's still sticking with this (or has just started reading, in that case, welcome!). We have reached almost a hundred kudos, and I'm still amazed by how much support y'all show! 
> 
> Warnings in end notes.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed in the black of the closet. For a time he tried to count his shaky breaths, but after a while they got too painful to focus on. Then he just let his mind wander through his memories. His awareness was a bit cloudy, his thoughts sluggish and slow as they passed from one past to the next. 

_There was Gabe and Luke, passing his favorite stuffed animal between them like a ball, high above his head. He reached desperately up to grab it, but it was just to tall. He could feel the tears streaming down his face as he let out a wail, and they stopped, looking down. Gabe just handed him the toy, and looked him in the eye._ _"Hey, kiddo, wanna get some sweets?" He leaned in and whispered. "Or play a prank on Dad?"_

_He stopped crying and sniffled, hugging the bear close to his chest as he nodded._

The memory swirled and changed, becoming darker and shadowed. 

_He could hear Gabe's voice just outside, yelling at Luke. He just kept banging on the door, hoping someone would let him out. He didn't understand what was happening._

_"You locked him in the fucking closet? You're insane or drunk or something." He heard footsteps come closer, before a muffled grunt and the sound of someone hitting the floor. He stopped pounding and listened, eyes straining in the dark._

_"Gabe, don't interfere with the Lord's work, or you will need to pay penance, too." Luke said, his voice cold. What was going on? Why did his brother sound so weird?_

_He heard another few blanketed shouts, before more footsteps and light flooded into his vision._

His eyes were open as he struggled to stay in reality. He couldn't fall back, couldn't let the current take him because who knew how long it'd be before he'd come gasping back to the surface again. But it was too strong, and he couldn't feel his pains anymore as-

_His feet were pounding along the pavement, looking back every possible second. But no one was following them down the street. He glanced down at Gabe, keeping pace beside him as they ran._

_A car came screeching up in front of them, blocking the narrow alley they'd nearly escaped from. He couldn't hold back the frightened moan that left him at the sight._

_The door swung open and a man stepped out. His heavy boots made a resounding sound with each step. They should run, they both knew they should run, but it'd be suicide. That gun on his belt wasn't just for show, and as they'd learned before, he wasn't afraid to use it._

_"Brothers, you know better than to run. I will always find you, no matter where you go."_

He fought, clawing back to the surface of consciousness forcing his tired eyes open and seeing. The flashbacks were a familiar thing. He knew it was his minds twisted way of checking out, leaving his body so he didn't have to deal with the pain and the fear anymore. But he couldn't be defenseless when Luke came back, which was probably soon. It was probably soon and then the agony would start again and-

_He was walking along the water's edge, idly watching the moon's reflection in the clear water. It was a pretty sight, fitting. He settled on a spot that allowed him to see the entire lake, framed by trees on all sides._

_He sat down on the grass, wet from the rain that had fallen hours before. It was cold, but nice. Grounding. But in a few minutes he wouldn't need that. He would finally have the wings he'd longed for as a child and truly escape this place. No longer would his brother's shadow be leaning over him, following from town to town and city to city._

_He could feel the metal growing warm in his palm. This was going to hurt, he already knew. He wished it didn't have to be, but it was a small price to pay for the resulting freedom._

_There was just one thing missing. The forest was silent, too silent. He wished that Gabe was beside him, or their parents. That would be nice; he could finally apologize for his wrongdoing years before when he was a child. Luke had been right about one thing: it had been his fault._

_Before he'd even consciously realized what he was doing, the phone was in his hands and dialing. He looked down at the number, and started to pray. Pray for forgiveness, pray for rebirth._

He rose gasping out of the memory as hand gripped onto his shoulder, shaking him. He looked up and saw the worried brown eyes looking at him, before letting go. He started to shake softly, drawing himself into the corner tighter despite the protest his ribs gave. 

"You gave me quite a scare there, Cassie. For a moment I thought you'd gone full catatonic." The genuine terror that laced Luke's voice made his stomach turn over and do flip-flops. He could do nothing but stare back, tremors running through his body. 

Luke gave a sigh, sitting down on the floor as though they were two pals. "Y'know, I don't understand why you're scared of me. I'm helping you, brother." He reached out a hand, as though to comfort him, and he cringed deeper into the wall. The comforting hand turned angry, grabbing at the rope that bound his hands and pulling him away from the wall. 

He gave a choked off cry at the pressure it put on his wrist, his vision wavering and greying out. His mind threatened to give in right there and check out, but he knew that would only make Luke angry, and the pain would be worse when he woke. 

His brother pulled him tightly to his chest, hugging him with just enough force to hurt his ribs. He started rocking them back and forth as though he was a mother comforting a young child. He wanted to try and wriggle out, but he was stopped by a voice.

"It's going to be a bad one, Cas, but it'll bring you a bit closer to true penance." Luke said close to his ear, and he shuddered. It was just too much, too much as the wave crashed over him again, pulling him down into memories. 

_A man with green eyes was sitting across from him at a table. He fumbled for a second on his name, but once he settled on it he smiled. Dean, that was Dean. The one who'd raised him from hell and gave him a reason to live. His face was blushed and happy, glowing in the ethereal of dream that this place had. His freckles were highlighted and his eyes twinkled._

_He could feel a strong pull towards him, to be with him. Maybe being around someone so good could wash away some of his own evil and sin. Dean stood quickly, grabbing his bowl and walking back over to a pot._

_"Maybe next week I'll make you a burger. It's been a long time since I've had one of those." Dean said, turning back to him. "you're probably tired of my box cooking."_

_He couldn't move his eyes away from him, everything just so beautiful and perfect and safe and warm in a way he'd never felt before. He didn't want to leave his side, didn't want to go back to his own life and reality. But already the current was easing, and washing him back on the barren shore._

His eyes started to see again, but before he could truly process he let out a cry of pain. Everything hurt, his chest, his wrist, and his shoulders. It was all one glob of burning pulsing pain. 

He struggled to look up, seeing through tears that his hands were now bound over the pole of the closet. It was tall enough his feet barely touched the floor, putting all the weight on his hands then his shoulders and down onto his rib cage. 

It was so much, overwhelming him and sending streaks of fire through his nerves. 

A hand settled on his chin, turning his head carefully to the side until he could see behind him and into the room. Luke was standing there, gazing at him with sorrowful eyes. 

"Are you back, Cas? That was a pretty long one. I was worried you wouldn't snap out of it in time and I'd have to give you penance again." He gave a quick look up and down him as though assessing how he was tied, then backed up. 

He struggled to breathe through the agony and the fear, feeling the room tilt and shift. After a few moments. Luke was back in his field of vision, holding a tie. 

"I know it isn't ideal, but I can't have you biting your tongue. Or doing anything that could alert anyone. " He pulled the makeshift gag through his mouth and around his head, tying it tightly. It hurt a bit, digging into the sides of his cheeks. The fabric was soft, but it still chafed against his skin. Cas let his head hang down onto his chest as he struggled to fill his lungs and not pass out. 

Once he heard the clinking, though, the one that haunted his nightmares along with so many things, he looked back up at struggled to see behind him. He could just make out Luke's face, but not what he was holding. But he knew; even without seeing it, he knew. 

He let his chin fall again, simply trying to brace for the agony he knew was going to come. He didn't have to wait long, and he barely registered the hissing in the air before his back started to burn. 

Each stripe made a fire burn between his shoulders and onto his lower back. Most had the extra bite of the buckle, and soon blood was trickling slowly down. 

He didn't count, didn't do anything except focus on his breaths waiting for the world to fall away. His breathing kept getting faster, absolute agony on his ribs, but he couldn't stop it. Emotions were running through him, and he could feel the panic rising. 

It was an eternity before the hits stopped, but he barely even registered it over the complete terror that had filled him. Even as he was let down and somehow, impossibly, the pain got worse, he couldn't really stay in reality. 

His breaths were coming too fast; he knew that even as he watched himself be placed back on the floor and in the closet by Luke. He could see that his eyes were slipping closed and turning glassy. Maybe he would die before his brother could save him. Maybe this would finally be the end and he could just rest. 

His eyes closed totally, and no longer was he looking down on himself. He was floating above the black, before a sudden hand grabbed him, and pulled him deep under the raging current. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> Extreme disassociation/catatonia  
> Abuse  
> References to past suicidal thoughts
> 
> Sorry, I know that was a heavy one. Once again, I tried my best to not beautify both the abuse and mental illness side of this story. Please don't hesitate to tell me if you have any issues. 
> 
> Also, I realized after I wrote this that not even my (short, 4'9") self could hang like that in a closet, so sorry for the inaccuracy.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to thank you all for continuing to stick with this! I've been posting this for over two months, and people are still paying attention. Thank you. 
> 
> Warnings in end notes.

The hours passed by slowly, marked by pacing and a lot of swearing between them. They were still sitting at the kitchen table, unsure what to do beyond wait for another message to come through. 

Dean took out his phone and glanced at the time. 6:00 am, at least twenty hours since Cas has been taken. He could do nothing but put his head in hands and wait for the message. 

Because Gabe said there would be another message and he had to trust that, he had to. Most of the first few hours he'd spent staring at the phone, the picture of Cas sleeping, and then beaten and bloody. It'd been so long since that'd been sent; who knew what else Luke could have done since then? 

He glanced over at Sam, passed out in his chair. That'd happened a few hours ago, although when he wasn't entirely sure. Gabe was still up, staring unseeingly at the far wall. 

"Hey, Gabriel?" He said softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. The man flinched, eyes turning to look wildly towards him before he met Dean's gaze and calmed. 

"What?" He bit back angrily, grabbing his phone from the table to check his texts. Like he wouldn't know the moment they got one. 

"Sorry, you just looked.... out of it?" He said, biting his lip. Whenever Cas had gotten like that, he'd had to talk him through it. That didn't seem like it would work with Gabe, so he took a more hands on approach. "Sorry." 

"We're all on our wits end." He looked at Sam. "Well, all of us that haven't conked out."

Dean gave a sad smile, before looking back down at the table. The soft wood was mark with pencil marks from Sam doing homework, etched lightly into the surface. Their names were also inscribed, from when Sam had been young and said that they needed to sign it. He hadn't had the heart to erase it. 

He eased his head back into his hands, feeling his head pound. All this stress and waiting was giving him a headache. As he closed his eyes, all he could see was Cas and those eyes. So blue and perfect, just like him. 

Then the phone buzzed, vibrating loudly on the table. Dean picked his head up and looked at it. After hours of staring at it with nothing happening, the idea that it was actually going off now just didn't seem real. But he reached his hand out and turned it around and saw the message notification. 

He stared at it for a few seconds, before jumping up and shouting, "There's a message!" 

Sam flinched awake next to him, blinking blearily for a few moments before registering the phone Dean was holding in his hand. 

Gabe looked up at his announcement, before standing up too. "What does it say?" 

"Uh..." He looked back down at the phone and opened it. This time the text didn't have a picture, just a message. 

_G,_ _It's time for you to come home to me and Cassie. His penance has started and our family can meet again. I'm sending you an address and room number. Come alone and unarmed. I will welcome you back with open arms, brother._ _L._

Dean read off the message quickly, before looking back down at Gabe. The man looked a bit pale, clearly struggling to hold himself together. 

"What does he mean, penance?" Sam asked, flicking a worried glance at Gabriel. 

"He believes that Cas has sin inside him, which caused our parent's car to crash. That he must pay his own twisted version of penance." He said, hands starting to noticeably tremble where they were resting at his side. "I have to go." 

"No," Dean said sharply. "We're not just going to let that bastard take you too, Gabe." 

"Well, than what are we going to do?" Gabe said, taking a step closer. "It's not like we can go storming in there, and at least if I'm there Cas has someone. I can protect him." 

"We have to try." Dean exasperated, before looking back down at the phone. "Look, we know where he is at least. This is a motel that's a few towns over, like twenty minutes away. We can case it out, then..." 

"Then what? We're going to storm in there, guns blazing-"

"Yes! Yes, if that means we can save Cas." Dean cried out, taking a step towards Gabe. "We just need to get him out, maybe we don't even have to confront Luke." 

"He's going to be there. He's not going to let Cas be alone in a room by himself." Gabe said softly. "If we do do this, we need a plan. And you two are staying out of the line of fire." 

"What?" Sam asked, just as Dean said, "No way." 

"He won't kill me, but you guys..." The man sighed. " I can't let you be in that kind of danger." 

"You sound exactly like Cas." Dean muttered under his breath. 

"We're already in danger, apparently since Dean first picked up that phone call. You can't cut us out now, Gabe." Sam said, also standing. "Cas is my friend." 

"He's my bro-" 

"Dean loves him!" Sam said, gesturing wildly at Dean. "He won't admit it, but he does. He is dying right now, man, because Cas is out there being hurt. If we let you go, you'll just get trapped under him again. You need help." 

Dean blushed fiercely, about stammer at denials, before Sam cut him off. "Don't even dare try to deny it." 

Gabe gave him an appraising look, seeming very much like the big brother, before nodding. "So did the nerd get laid yet?" 

"No!" He sputtered out. "We haven't even talked about it. He doesn't feel that way about me." 

"If you haven't talked about it, how do you know?" Sam piped up helpfully.

"I just... do," He said tiredly. "We're wasting time, are we doing this or not?" 

Sam looked over at Gabe, waiting for his answer. 

"Ok, ok. But you are listening to everything I say." Gabe said.

"Kinky," Dean said halfheartedly, trying to lighten the mood a bit. "But Sam's staying in the car." 

Sam started to protest, but Gabe cut him off. "He's right. We need someone as a lookout, or, something." 

"Get away driver?" Sam asked with a glance towards Dean. 

"No fucking way, kid." Dean said. "And what are we going to do?" 

Gabe took his gun out of his belt and handed it to Dean, who took it gingerly. "I'm going to give myself up. Luke will search me for weapons, so I can't have the gun. You know how to shoot?" Dean nodded. "Then you'll come in and hold him at gun point. After that we'll call the police, and they can pick him up. We've already got him, so he can't run." 

"This sounds a bit like a half-assed plan." Dean said.

"That's because it totally is." Gabe agreed, opening the door and walking into the hallway. 

*•*•*

The Impala pulled into the Red Rooster Motel's parking lot and into a spot. The ride had been tense, with Gabe going over the plan the entire ride there. Dean would wait in the hallway outside the room, ready, and once they saw Cas he would come in. It seemed like a bad plan, but what else were they going to do. They couldn't take the man in a fight. 

Sam was fidgeting in the passenger seat, wringing his hand over and over. It was making Dean antsy just watching him. 

"If you see anything happen, Sam, call the police." Gabe said, looking into a room's window. Light was coming off it, surprising in the early morning. That could be Luke's, as far as they knew. 

Sam nodded, looking no less worried. 

Dean opened the driver's side door as Gabe opened his, and they stepped out together. Giving each other a quick glance, they walked over towards the motel's entrance. 

The bells above the door chimed as they entered, a horrible mime of the ones at the Gas-N-Sip that brought back memories of Cas. A woman was sitting behind the counter, and looked up at them. 

"Where's room seventeen?" Gabe asked politely. "We're meeting a friend." 

"Down that hallway to the right," She said, waving towards a section of rooms. before looking down at her computers. 

They walked down the hallway, stopping just before they reached a door with large metal numbers reading seventeen. That was the room Luke had given them. They shared another meaningful look, and Gabe knocked on the door. They waited for tense seconds before it opened. 

There was an old man who answered, at least fifty. "Who're you and what're you doing here at this ungodly hour?" He said, blinking sleep out of his eyes. 

"Uh, sorry, sir?" Gabe said, looking confused. The message had said seventeen. Dean got the sinking feeling that something was going horribly wrong. 

The man closed the door just as the one across the hall opened. Gabe turned, jumping as he took in the person's face. It was startling, the lack of resemblance between the brothers. While Cas had looked nothing like Gabe, he'd expected one of them to look like Luke. 

Their plan had included keeping Dean out of sight, but Luke had full view of both of them from the doorway.

"Well, I see you're just stubborn as you've always been, Gabe." Luke said, his voice a horrid mix of caring and cold. "I assume there's a weapon somewhere too?" 

Gabe gave a quick, white faced look towards Dean, and nodded. His body was shaking as he looked at his brother. 

"Hand it over." Luke said, glancing at Dean. He hesitated, unsure, until Luke pulled out his own from his holster. "Hand. It. Over." 

Dean jumped and grabbed the pistol from his belt, handing it over as fast as he could. 

"Good, now, who are you?" Luke said, keeping his gun out and putting Gabe's into his holster. "Why are you here?" 

"I, uh," He licked his lips, staring at the barrel. "I'm their friend." He said softly. 

"I guess you're expendable, then." He said, clicking off the safety. Gabe jumped, rushing in front of Dean. 

"Luke, Luke, please. Just, let him live. Please, brother." He pleaded. 

Luke seemed to consider this, before shaking his head. "Think of this as part of your punishment, Gabe. We can't do it here, though, of course." Dean didn't miss the shudder that ran through him at the words. 

He opened his mouth to call out to someone, but got shushed by Gabe. "If anyone comes over, he'll shoot them." the older man whispered in his ear. That made him stop, looking back at the door behind him, number seventeen. It was their stupidity that had caused this to happen, he wouldn't let anyone else get hurt. 

Luke waved for them to go into the motel room with the gun. They both stepped tentatively over the threshold, casting their eyes about for Cas. There was two beds, and the carpet had a few spots of blood across it, which he knew horribly had to be Cas'. Dean's eyes were drawn to the closet set into the back wall. 

"Can I see Cas?" Gabe asked quietly, turning to Luke. The oldest brother looked at him for a moment, before walking over to closet and opening it, pulling a figure out. 

At first, Cas looked the same as the picture, except his eyes were open and unseeing and a tie was tied around his head as a gag. A bruise on his forehead, his hand now not only swollen but an assortment of colors. Then Luke threw him unceremoniously to the floor, and Dean saw his back. 

It looked like what people in the movies did after they'd been whipped, nearly all the skin flayed off along his spine. The blue vest was no where to be found, but his white collared shirt was left in shreds, lined in blood. Dean felt bile rise in his throat at the sight, and tried to meet Cas' eyes. But he kept gazing off into the distance, not making a move to get off the floor where Luke had put him. 

"Cassie," Gabe said softly, moving to kneel at his side. Luke just tutted, moving the gun so it was pointed at Cas. 

"Gabe, go over and sit on the bed. You, kneel on the floor." Gabriel gave one last, long look towards Dean, as though apologizing, and moved to do as his brother said. He watched as Luke took a few steps closer, gun now pointed at him. "I'm sorry, truly, but I can't have any loose ends."

The safety clicked off, and he cocked it. The silencer settled right on his forehead, and he forced himself to take deep, slow breaths. Hopefully the shot would at least be loud enough for Sam to hear, and he could send them help. Maybe Gabe and Cas could at least be saved. 

He looked past Lucifer to Cas, still laying on the carpet. But now that the gun had been cocked, he seemed more aware of his surroundings. He met Dean's gaze, eyes filled with pain and words left unsaid. Dean couldn't look away fixed on his eyes, blue as the heavens above. 

"May God let your soul find peace,"

And then the shot sounded. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> Gun violence
> 
> Sorry for the cliffhanger. See y'all Tuesday!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all, it's Tuesday again! Hope you enjoy this chapter!
> 
> Warnings in end notes.

He never really knew what he believed. It was appealing, to think that you go to heaven when you die. Of course, that meant there was probably something akin to a hell. But he never truly thought it was real, couldn't imagine that there was an afterlife. So maybe you got reborn? Maybe you were just in a void of nothing, like forever being asleep? 

For a second, when he looked around, he thought he was wrong. That there was an afterlife. Because he could see the crappy wallpaper and stained carpet that he had before he died. But there was a horrible burning pain in his shoulder, something that felt too real. He was shocked back into reality, glancing around and truly seeing. 

He looked for Cas first, but neither he nor Luke was in front of him as they had been seconds before. He looked around wildly, finally finding them fighting on the floor a few feet away. How Cas managed to get up so quickly, especially with his injuries, was beyond him. He chanced a quick glance at his shoulder, relieved to see he'd only been shot there. The blood was soaking through his shirt, but it was relatively slow. So he wasn't dead, and he wasn't dying. Not yet. 

He saw that Gabe was watching intently from the bed, muscles tensed and prepared to jump in. But he bit his lip, unsure. The brothers were rolling around on the floor, each trying to get the upper hand. Luke punched Cas hard, which led to his lip splitting open again, blood running down where some had already dried. It joined the spatters that were already decorating the carpet below them. 

He could do nothing but watch, desperate. The fight was over quickly, unsurprising with Cas' injuries. Luke sat up straddling him as his friend lay heaving for breaths, eyes nearly closed in pain. The pressure it must be putting on his back had to be agonizing. 

"That was very stupid, Cassie." He could hear Luke whisper, leaning down to get closer to his victim's face. "I see our session earlier did nothing to wash away the evil inside you." Cas didn't reply, just lay there, shaking, staring up at his brother. His eyes were dazed and glassy.

Then his hand reached around Luke, pulling at something. The older brother snarled, trying to pry Cas' hand away from whatever he was grabbing at, but before he could, another shot went through the room. 

Dean jumped, fully prepared to see Cas, or Gabe, bleeding out on the floor. But instead, Luke fell backwards off him, a round going into his head. Blood slowly trickled out of the hole and down his face.

They all just sat there a moment in stunned silence, no one quite sure what to do. Luke was dead. He was dead. Then Cas gave out a low groan, gun slipping out of his hand as his eyes rolled back in his head. 

Dean was there in a second, grabbing his hand and saying, "Cas, we're going to get you help." He waited anxiously for a response, anything to indicate his friend heard him. Blue was still visible, slitted in his friend's eyes, but Cas did nothing but moan softly. 

Gabe was pushing him out of the way, and he fell back to Cas' side, watching the brothers carefully. Maybe Gabe would know what to do, how to save him. He unwound the tie carefully, blood flowing back to the skin that had been cut off. 

"Hey, Cassie. I'm here, ok?" He watched as Cas slowly lifted his uninjured hand to Gabe's leg and tapped twice. Dean looked between them carefully, noticing that this seemed very much like a system they'd done many times before. But why? Had Luke done something to Cas' throat? He looked carefully but couldn't see anything out of the ordinary, just blood dried from before. Although there was a lot of blood. 

"Yeah, bro. Are you here?" This seemed like an odd question, but it got two taps. Dean guessed that meant yes. "Good, now we're going to go through the checklist, like always." Two taps. "Feet?" One tap. "Ankles?" One tap. 

As Gabe went through each body part, Dean understood. He was trying to figure out what had been hurt and what hadn't. It made sense: Luke wouldn't have wanted them to go to a hospital unless it was absolutely necessary. That would raise unwanted questions. So they probably had to treat nearly all of each other's injuries. 

It was painful, watching Cas struggle to stay conscious through the entire thing. His eyes kept slipping closed, leading to Gabe putting a light hand on his other, injured, wrist. Then his eyes fluttered and opened, but every time they looked just a bit more distant. 

He heard footsteps, and stood up, but relaxed when he just saw Sam. He looked terrified, running down the hallway and into the room. 

"Jesus." His brother whispered, taking in the scene in front of him. They probably all looked like shit, and the blood that covered the floor and the fucking dead body didn't help. 

"Have you called an ambulance?" He asked urgently. He didn't know how much longer Gabe could keep his brother from slipping away

"Uh..." Sam was still just staring at Cas, growing paler by the second. 

"Sam!" He said louder, shaking his shoulder to get him to snap out of it. 

"Yeah, I heard the gunshot and..." He glanced down at Luke's body and his eyes widened. "Shit!" 

"What about the other people? Did you see the hostess or anyone?" He pressed. No one had come into the room when the shot went off, which was probably good.

"They're all out in the parking lot, freaked from the shot. Who...?" He glanced back towards Luke's body.

"Cas," He said softly, and they both looked back at the brothers. Gabe had just gotten to his back, which got an empathetic two taps along with a small nod. The older brother just kept going, talking quietly. 

The checklist seemed to stretch on for forever as they watched, each time his friend getting a bit... not here. Once it was done, a shiver went through Cas' body, and his eyes slipped closed a bit more. 

"Damn, I think he's going into shock." Gabe said, looking at them. "How long until the ambulance gets here?" 

"Five minutes, I think?" Sam answered quietly, eyes fixated on Cas. 

Gabe turned back to his brother, whose breathing had also picked up. His eyes were still open, but looking at the far wall unfocused. Gabriel tapped his bad wrist again.

"Hey, hey, bro. I need you to stay with me for a few more minutes, ok? Just a few more minutes." Cas nodded slightly, eyes slipping over to Dean. It was weird, like they were half focused on him, half on something behind him. It looked oddly like he had in the car ride back from the lake. Almost like he was just distanced from reality. 

His palm grew cold and clammy through the minutes, their eyes staying locked on each other until they heard the sirens. Cas gave a huge flinch once they were in earshot, nearing hyperventilation almost instantly. His eyes rolled back in his head again, and his body was shuddering.

"Shit." Gabe said. "Sam, can you go outside and tell them where we are?" Sam nodded, running back out of the room as fast as he could to the parking lot. 

"What's happening?" He asked, still watching Cas. 

"I don't know, I don't know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> Aftermath of abuse,  
> Gun violence
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! Only three more chapters left!
> 
> Warnings in end notes.

It seemed as though it took hours for those damned paramedics to finally get there. Dean could only watch, dazed as they loaded Cas onto a stretcher they wheeled down the hall. He followed, feeling almost like he was floating, until they were outside. He saw them put the stretcher into the back of the ambulance, before a nurse ushered inside too. In all the action, he'd forgotten about the gunshot wound in his shoulder, and was reminded when he nearly collapsed in the hallway. A distant thought told him that's probably why he feels so weird. 

He could only hold Cas' hand through the ride, watching as the blue slipped further and further beneath his lids. It was good, he supposed. He wouldn't be in pain if he was unconscious, and he had to be in a a lot of pain. 

They were bandaging his arm too, which was annoying. They kept telling him to twist and let go of his friend's hand. He kept telling them to work around it, because like hell was he letting go of Cas. 

He drifted in that state of semi-awareness for a while, until they got to the hospital. They were rushed through the ER doors, Cas being shoved down one hallway and him another. He couldn't help the feeling of 'something bad is going to happen' that spread through him as his fingers disentangled from Cas'. 

He kept being told to lie down, which was stupid. He had to protect his friend. Who knew what would happen if he woke up in an unfamiliar place like this. And he had to find Gabe, make sure Sam was all right. And he never called the school or his work. The hands were strong on his chest, but he was a mechanic; solid muscle. It didn't take much to break free of them. But as soon as his feet touch the floor he collapsed. 

It was weird, the lines spinning like that. Everything was brilliant and gleaming and turning. It was kinda trippy. No, correction: very trippy.

He felt a pinch in his arm, which hurt. He wanted to cuss at the person but couldn't find the energy. Because he was just so tired. It felt as though he hadn't slept. Which he hadn't. 

The colors were dimming. He didn't want the colors to leave. Wow, he was _loopy _. Guess they'd given him the good stuff.__

__

__It didn't take long for everything to slowly grey, then the world to stop turning, and finally fade to black._ _

__

__

__

__

__*•*•*_ _

__

__

__

__

__He was thirsty. Like bone-dry, would-literally-kill-for-a-bottle-of-water thirsty. His tongue hesitantly licked his bottom lip, finding it felt just as cracked as the rest him did. There was a dull ache in his arm, a barely there pulse of numb._ _

__

__Tentatively, he moved his leg. Just a bit, to confirm he could. Then the other. He blinked, opening his eyes and wincing. The light was bright, excessively bright, in his opinion. It hurt just behind his eyes, pounding steadily on his skull. He glanced down, and saw his left arm wrapped in bandages and that his right had an IV in it. So, hospital._ _

__

__He thought for a moment, before he finally remembered what had happened. The Gas-N-Sip, Gabe, Luke, the gun. And Cas._ _

__

__Shit._ _

__

__Cas._ _

__

__He sat up as fast as he could, looking around the room for a few seconds. No one was in there, but a pitcher of water and a glass sat on the table next to him. He reached over and poured in, gulping down as much as he could._ _

__

__A bit hit his chest, and he looked down. And someone had undressed him. Just, great. Because that's not creepy as fuck. It was also one of those damn hospital gowns. Which meant no pants. He would very much wish they'd at least left him with some pants._ _

__

__He adjusted his plan. First order of business: pants. Second: Cas. It didn't take long to find his clothes, folded and sitting on a chair. Taking another quick glance around to make sure he was alone, he gently pulled out the IV and walked over to the chair. He slipped on first the jeans. Then he tried to get on shirt, but after a minute of struggling with his shoulder, he gave up and let the hospital gown fall back down._ _

__

__Just as he was about to pull back the curtain and find his friend, it was opened from the opposite side. He was faced with a young nurse dressed in light purple scrubs. She was pretty. And she was staring at him, glancing up and down at his jeans-and-gown ensemble._ _

__

__"You... should not be out of bed." She said, still seeming a bit shocked. Dean was about to slip on his best flirting smile and say something smooth to try and charm his way out of here. But then he remembered Cas; his back, his eyes._ _

__

__"I came in here with someone else, do you know where they are? Or how they're doing?" He let a controlled amount of panic slip into his voice. Enough that he'd seem concerned but not the full fledged 'everything is going to shit' that he actually felt._ _

__

__"I may be able to find them if you give me their name, but you really must get back into bed." The nurse was looking a bit uncomfortable, as though she was worried someone might walk in at any moment and find him standing._ _

__

__"If you tell me where he is, I'll get back into bed, promise." And then sign myself out against medical advice, he thought. "Just, he was hurt and I'm worried about him."_ _

__

__"What's their name?" She said, her gaze turning piteous. He tried not to let that turn his stomach._ _

__

__"Castiel." He thought for another moment. "Or Steve. Steve Smith." The nurse raised her eyebrows, but walked over to the desk just outside that held all the computers. Dean watched her from the room, out of sight until she came back into the curtains._ _

__

__"There is a Castiel Novak checked into the ICU, but I can't tell you more unless you're family." Dean felt a huge sigh of relief. He's here, he's alive. "But I really must insist you sit down now."_ _

__

__He walked dutifully over to the bed, took a careful seat, and glanced at the pitcher. "Can you get some more water?" The nurse nodded, and he added. "And an AMA form?"_ _

__

__She looked a bit shocked -that probably didn't happen often- but still agreed and said the doctor would be right in. He waited uncomfortably until another, older, woman walked in, this time dressed in a doctor's robe._ _

__

__She went through all the normal things about how it would be much better to stay and that it had only been a few hours since he'd been sedated and had the bullet taken out. But he was adamant. Staying meant less of a chance to see Cas, along with Sam and Gabe. Not to mention the cost of all this. They'd have to figure that all out in a month or two._ _

__

__They explained to him, for what felt like an excruciatingly long time, his injury and how to care for it. Risks of infection, all that, along with recovering from blood loss. That explained why he had felt so much like shit when he'd woken up. Then they gave him the two prescriptions he was supposed to fill, one antibiotics and the other pain meds, and said he was free to go._ _

__

__Finally, after half an hour of going through those various things with the doctor and some nurses, he managed to get someone to help him with his shirt so he could take off that damned gown. He could only imagine the jokes they'd have about him for days. Then they forced him to wear a stupid sling which he was certain he'd take off as soon as humanly possible. And he walked out into the hallway and directly into Sam._ _

__

__"Dean!" He said, drawing him into a hug. He stood there for a few seconds before pulling away. "I was just coming to visit you. Me and Gabe have been with Cas this whole time and-"_ _

__

__"Where's Cas?" He said, cutting off Sam. "How's he doing? The nurse told me he was here but wouldn't say much beyond that. Something about family only."_ _

__

__"He's... he's alive." Sam replied hesitantly. Well, that sounded horrible and ominous and all the things he was really hoping Sam wouldn't say or at least sound like. He could already feel panic causing his heart to beat faster, which was probably not a good thing._ _

__

__"Sam, tell me."_ _

__

__"They stitched up his back in the worst places about five hours ago. And he's no longer in shock, which is good. Two of his ribs and his left wrist are broken, and that shoulder is also dislocated. That's all been re-set, and his wrist is in a brace. They also took the stitches out of his head." Sam still sounded worried._ _

__

__"That's... not too bad." It was horrible, but nothing compared to what his mind had been imagining. But somehow, he still had that sinking feeling in his stomach. "What aren't you telling me."_ _

__

__Sam sighed, looking down at his hands. "He woke up a couple of hours ago, and he's not... talking. And he's distant, like his mind is half somewhere else. Practically catatonic."_ _

__

__"Is there something wrong with his head? Is it the concussion or something...?" Dean tried, even though he knew the answer._ _

__

__"No, the doctors checked. Gabe said this was normal for him. He also said it took over a year after they escaped last time for him to say anything." Dean felt the air rush out of him. Over a year? He knew the trauma was bad, but to think that Cas had been mute for that long?_ _

__

__He was still processing all the information when Sam said, "How're you doing? Why did they even let you out of bed?"_ _

__

__"AMA." He said, waving his hand. He couldn't stop thinking about how he could possibly never hear Cas' voice again. The way it had lilted up slightly when he was happy, or down when he was sad. How it had sounded so excited, nearly vibrating, when they'd watched that movie. Or that first time they'd had macaroni._ _

__

__"Dean, please tell me you did not just leave against medical advice literally ten hours after you got shot, nearly fainted from blood loss, and got a bullet taken out of your arm?" He could only shrug, and was greeted with an infamous bitch-face. "There is a _reason _for why they say it's against their advice. Because the doctors, the people who go to medical school for a decade, are saying you should be resting. And probably be on antibiotics. And pain killers. All so that you don't, y'know, die or someth-"___ _

___ _

___"Are they allowing us in to see him?" He cut in, knowing it didn't matter either way, because he was seeing Cas as soon as he could get to his room. He could hear Sam continue bitching behind him, but finally got that they were. "Tell me where it is."_ _ _

___ _

___"First, I need to know how you're feeling." His brother insisted._ _ _

___ _

___"Just peachy, not at all like I just got shot. Now show me his room, bitch."_ _ _

___ _

___"Jerk," Sam replied back, sounding annoyed, but still took off in the direction of another wing. He followed behind, trying not show how much his head still bothered him. And his arm was starting to go from blissfully numb to slightly painful. Which probably wasn't good, but what could he do about it now?_ _ _

___ _

___They arrived at a room near the end of the ICU. A security guard was posted at the front entrance, which made Dean's blood grow a bit cooler. It brought back memories he'd prefer not to have to think about so soon._ _ _

___ _

___"What's with the muscle?" He whispered to Sam outside the door._ _ _

___ _

___"They said it was needed until they got statements from all of us. Cas only just got out of the woods, so they haven't had time to do any of that yet." It made sense, but it still didn't sit right. They'd have to be careful Cas doesn't see him._ _ _

___ _

___Eyeing the guy out of the corner of his eye, they walked into the room. Gabe was sitting in the hard plastic chair next to the bed, holding one of Cas' hands. There was the steady beeping of the heart monitor, but everything was quiet beyond that._ _ _

___ _

___He took a few steps closer until he could see beyond the curtain that had been half pulled and at Cas. He looked... frail. Like if you touched him he might crack and start to break apart. It was a bit frightening, to be honest. His face was paler than he'd seen it, bringing out both the blue in his eyes and the purple of the bruising on his forehead. His arm was also in a sling, which made Dean have the most ridiculous thought of 'they're sling-buddies!' and nearly burst out giggling. He pegged it on exhaustion and stress and whatever pain meds they had him on. His wrist, just barely visible beyond the black fabric, was wrapped in a brace._ _ _

___ _

___He was sitting with his back away from the bed, which allowed him to see through the open back of the gown. His ribs were wrapped tightly with a bandage, and there were more gauze pieces spread across his back. But what was the worst were the marks whatever he'd been hit with made that weren't covered. Long, thin stripes of skin red and swelled. It looked agonizing. But there was other, older stripes. Some thick, thin. Pale against his skin, scars versus the too-new blisters._ _ _

___ _

___And then there were his eyes. They were open, looking out at the small window that had a semi-translucent curtain drawn in front of it. Only the light was able to get through, bathing his face in the late afternoon sunlight. Despite all the injuries, he looked just as beautiful as the day they'd met. Although he hadn't looked the best then, either._ _ _

___ _

___Gabe had looked up when they entered, and had gently let go of Cas' hand and moved over to them. He waved him over to the opposite corner away from Cas. Sam went back over and took his place._ _ _

___ _

___"How're you doing?" The older man asked, eyeing his sling. He'd meant to have taken that off already._ _ _

___ _

___"Fine, fine. How's Cas? Sam already gave me the low-down on his injuries, but..." He trailed off, both of them looking over to where Cas was just staring off into the distance._ _ _

___ _

___"It's been a long time since the day-dreaming stuff has been this bad. There was a therapist in here a while ago, and she said it's probably a way for him to escape what he'd gone through. Which I could have told her before." He took a deep steadying breath. "She also said it'd be good for someone to be with him at all times. I was hoping maybe you could... talk to him? Maybe it'd be good to have a different voice."_ _ _

___ _

___Dean nodded. "What's going on with the cops and everything? Have they talked to you yet?"_ _ _

___ _

___"They said they'd come around and take our statements tomorrow. I mean, it was blatant self-defense, so we should be fine. And hopefully our stories are enough that they don't even have to come near Cas."_ _ _

___ _

___"Yeah, that wouldn't go over well." He said, his voice dark. If he had it his way, Cas wouldn't have to think or see another officer for the rest of his life._ _ _

___ _

___He walked back over to where Sam was sitting, and tapped him on the shoulder. "Have you had anything to eat today, either of you?" The fact they gave no answer was enough. "Go to the cafe and get something. I'll stay here with him."_ _ _

___ _

___They agreed, dragging their feet a bit, but eventually they were gone and he and Cas were alone in the room. He settled down on the hard chair, and reached out to grab his hand. It was warm and soft, slightly calloused. He'd never really paid attention to that before. It gripped him back gently, which led a wave of warmth rushing through him. He was at least partly here, he wasn't totally gone._ _ _

___ _

___"Hey, Cas." He started, feeling a bit awkward. "Uh, it's Dean. Obviously. You're safe now, we're in the hospital. And guess what: we're sling buddies!" He let out that stupid giggle he'd been holding. "They had me on some pretty good meds. Bit loopy."_ _ _

___ _

___The hand was still squeezing his, and he held onto that sign of life despite everything else. "I can't believe I've only actually known you for like a week. It feels like so much longer, almost like... forever? It sounds stupid. And now I sound like one of those sappy romance novel guys who's all professing their love and-" He stopped, realizing what he'd said. "Not that I'm professing my love to you or anything because I totally, definitely, do not feel that way about you."_ _ _

___ _

___He knew he was blushing fiercely, and hated how stupid he sounded. What was he, a hormonal girl? He sighed. "Can you please come back, Cas? I know it's not your fault, that you're escaping whatever trauma you've been through. But you're safe now and I-" I miss you. I love you. They were right on the tip of his tongue but he couldn't let them go. "-I just want you back._ _ _

___ _

___"I promised I'd make you burgers this week. And we have movie night tomorrow, which I totally forgot about. You can pick, even if it's one of those cheesy rom-coms. Or, hell, even a soap opera. Whatever you want." He stopped, unsure what to say. They sat for a few moments in silence, Cas still staring out the window._ _ _

___ _

___"And, once you're better, I can take you out in Baby again." Oh, he needed to ask Sam where she was. "You also need clothes. We've been procrastinating on that for too long. Until then you can wear some of mine, they do basically fit. I mean, they're mostly old band tees but who knows, maybe that's your inner style. If so, you've been holding out on me man. We should totally listen to some Metallica together." He stopped, just looking at Cas again._ _ _

___ _

___"I really need you to come back, buddy." He was whispering now, although he didn't really know why. "I don't know so many things. What kind of music you like. Your favorite food. Hell, whether you're straight or not. It hasn't been long enough."_ _ _

___ _

___His throat felt tight, and he could barely see through the thick layer of tears in his eyes. He couldn't cry, He could not cry in front of his crush. That was like the epitome of all bad things you could do to make anyone not want to be around you. But he couldn't help the single tear that tracked down his cheek and onto his shirt._ _ _

___ _

___They sat like that for a a while, silent except for the heart monitor and his occasional hum when it just got to be too silent. He was holding Cas' hand throughout the entire time, despite how sweaty he knew his had to be._ _ _

___ _

___He wasn't exactly sure how much time had passed before Sam and Gabe came back in the room, talking quietly. Sam was carrying a single cup of soup and a spoon in his hand, which he set down on Cas' bedside table._ _ _

___ _

___"You need to eat too, Dean." He said softly. It barely registered as he kept staring at Cas. He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder, surprised to see his brother standing next to him. "You've gone just as long without food."_ _ _

___ _

___Grudgingly, he let go of Cas' hand and walked over to the little table, standing over it as he opened the lid. Steam billowed out and his face, surprisingly warm and comforting. It was chicken noodle, classic hospital fare, but generally pretty good. He tentatively dipped the spoon in and tried some. He hadn't realized just how hungry he'd been, and within a few minutes he'd finished the bowl._ _ _

___ _

___Just as he was dropping it into the trash, he felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket. Pulling it out, he saw his bosses number under the caller ID, and swore. He hadn't called this morning, too caught up with everything. So he'd totally missed today. He clicked the accept button, and walked out of the room and into the hallway. Feeling the guard's eyes on his back, he moved down until he was behind a curve and out of earshot._ _ _

___ _

___"Where the hell've you been, kid? It's already the end of the day, and you didn't show or call or anything. Is it that mono again?" His voice was gruff and loud through the phone's speakers._ _ _

___ _

___"Uh, I'm at the hospital. It's a long story, but I'll probably have to take a few days off of work." He tried to sound calm, but knew he was still shaky and stressed and it showed._ _ _

___ _

___"Shit, what happened? Sam ok?" He heard the genuine concern in the voice, and felt a bit better._ _ _

___ _

___"No, no. It's me, actually. I kinda got shot," He tried to make it sound like no big deal, but still had to hold the phone a bit away from his ear. "Just in the shoulder. Doc said I needed a sling for two weeks, but that's not going to happen. But I won't be able to do much heavy lifting for at least that long."_ _ _

___ _

___"Yeah, yeah, we'll put you on desk duty or something." He grimaced because that was going to suck. He hated paperwork, part of the reason for why he became a mechanic. Solid work with your hands. "How'd it happen?"_ _ _

___ _

___"I'm not really sure I'm supposed to say," He replied. He actually didn't know, but he'd rather not have too many people knowing about Cas and everything until the police were all sorted out._ _ _

___ _

___"Sure, sure. Take the rest of the week off. Although we did just get a '68 Dodge Charger in and once you fix it up she'll be a beaut. Just a bit of bait to get ya off your ass and back here."_ _ _

___ _

___"Yeah, thanks, boss." He said, before closing the phone. That was taken care of._ _ _

___ _

___He walked back into Cas' room, trying not to let his eyes linger on the guard too much. Everyone was still where they had been when he'd left. Gabe holding Cas' hand as Sam watched from the opposite corner. Cas was still staring at the curtained window._ _ _

___ _

___They were all alive. They were all going to stay alive. He just had to try and save Cas from himself. But looking around at the people with him, he had a bit of hope. A mechanic, a nerd, an asshole with a gun, and now Mr. Almost-Comatose. Looking like a pretty damn good team to him._ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> Catatonia/disassociation 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only three chapters left! Thanks to anyone who's still sticking with this!
> 
> This one's a bit of filler, but it's long so hopefully that makes up for it.
> 
> Warnings in end notes.

Once general visiting hours were over, Sam insisted he go home and rest. They'd gotten special orders from the therapist so one of them could stay in the room at all times even after 9:00 pm, but neither his brother nor Gabe would let him take the first shift. Grudgingly, he'd agreed, and Sam brought him out into the parking lot and to the Impala. Apparently, they'd driven her behind the ambulance on the way to the hospital. 

He managed to get back to the apartment before passing out, although it was close. He'd barely hit the pillow, still with Cas' pillow case, before he fell unconscious. 

He dreamed of Luke and his gun, held just above his forehead. How the silencer had felt pressed gently into his skin. That feeling of weightless shock before he actually realized he hadn't died. 

He'd woken up with a kink in his neck and a horrid pain in his shoulder and down into his arm. As much as he hated to admit it, he had to wear the sling that day. He couldn't even straighten his elbow fully without getting spikes driven down to his fingers. He took probably a few too many Advil and managed to gulp down a glass of water before calling Gabe. They'd exchanged numbers the night before so they can check in. 

"Y'ello?" He heard through the speaker. 

"How is he, has anything changed?" He spit out before he could stop himself. He couldn't stop his leg from bouncing as he waited for an answer. 

"No, Cassie is just as spacey as he was before." Dean could hear how much Gabe was struggling to be upbeat. It had to be tough for him, even though he was used to it. 

"Dammit," He swore softly. "Everything else?" 

"The Doc said he's looking great injury wise, considering. No infection or anything. It's just..." He trailed off, but his meaning was clear. "When do ya think you'll get here? Cas may get food put in his bloodstream, but I am really craving some eggs." 

"We'll drive over as soon as Sammy's up. The princess is getting in her beauty sleep." He knew his voice betrayed how anxious he was to go, but he didn't have the heart to wake Sam up after everything that'd happened yesterday. 

"And be prepared: the police want to take our statements today now that everything is settled." Gabe sounded a bit shaky with that, not that he would blame him. 

"Yeah, thanks, Gabe." They said their goodbyes and he settled into the couch. He remembered how uncomfortable he'd been without his clothes when he'd woken up. Cas would need clothes too, his uniform too soiled and ripped to be repaired. He'd bring him shopping once he's out of the hospital, but until then he has some old sweats and band shirts he could borrow like he'd said yesterday. 

He tried hard not to think about the whole money situation, although it was a pretty glaring problem. Cas had nothing, but also no health insurance so they'd have to pay out of pocket. Which was going to be somewhere in the tens of thousands range. Not to mention everything else that they'd need. Suddenly that bread he'd been worried about last week didn't seem like that big of a deal. 

He couldn't do anything about it yet, so they'd have to try and figure it out later. He went into his room quietly and grabbed a few clothing items from the drawers. Just in case he woke up today. Just in case. 

Despite his trying, Sam still woke up when the door creaked as he closing it. He stared up at him before glancing at the time. 

"It's after eight, Dean! Why didn't you wake me up?" He jumped out of bed and threw on a pair of jeans sitting on top of the dresser, before running a had through his hair. Which naturally brought in back to just-blow-dried perfection. Damn kid. 

"You hadn't gotten any sleep in almost two days. Forgive me for not wanting to deal with a cranky bitch all day." He said, ignoring Sam giving him the finger. 

"We're going to the hospital, right?" Sam asked while putting on a new shirt. Dean nodded, holding up Baby's keys. "And did you already take the Advil?" He was eyeing the sling. Sometimes he hated how damn smart the kid was. 

"Yeah, yeah, get going." He walked over to the door, but before he could open it a hand was shoving it closed. 

"And before we go to Cas, we're getting those antibiotics from the pharmacy. No arguing." He sighed in frustration, but agreed, and they went down the hallway. 

Thirty minutes later and with a fresh bottle of pills in his pocket, him and Sam were on the elevator up to the floor where Cas is. The music was playing softly in the background and he fidgeted silently. 

"You're going to tell Cas, right? After this is all over?" His brother was looking at him with that 'you are hopeless' look. 

"Yeah, I will." He answered offhandedly, trying to deflect the attention. 

"Dean, Jesus, everyone in the entire wing knows, what with those moony-eyes you make all day. And no one cares. Dad's been gone for three years now. Time's have changed." 

"Shut. Up. Sam." He said, his voice low and trying to be menacing. Sam just raised an eyebrow. "Look, it's not about any of that, ok? It's just that he doesn't feel that way." 

"Oh, come on. You have no fucking idea how he feels because you refuse to talk about it or even admit it-" 

"I love him! Ok, I'm admitting it. I love Cas. But he does not love me." He knew he was getting too upset over this, but couldn't help himself. Just Cas doesn't love him. He can't love him. 

Sam opened his mouth as though to argue, but the doors opened and Dean walked right out. He followed the sign through the long hallways until he came up to room 211. The guard was still posted outside, standing stiffly. He didn't feel any more comfortable with him here today. 

He pushed open the door and stepped into the room. The curtain wasn't pulled at all today, flush with the wall. Cas didn't look all that different, beyond that his bruises were a bit yellower and the circles under his eyes were a bit darker. The heart monitor was still beeping steadily, along with the drip of the IV. 

Gabe was still sitting in the chair, holding Cas' hand. In perspective, he looked even worse than Cas. Like he hadn't slept the whole night. 

"Man, please tell me you got some sleep and have not been going three days straight." The little half smile he got in return told him everything. "Go to bed before you pass out." 

"And miss my three-course meal? No way!" The man said, sitting up a little straighter. 

"Seriously, you look like shit."

"Thanks for that vote of confidence." He was starting to see why Cas had called him the trouble child. "And besides the food, the police will be here at twelve and why go to bed now?" Dean could tell he was trying to sound nonchalant, but a bit of a tremor broke through. 

"Yeah, yeah. At least go with Sam to the cafe and get something to eat." He tried, sneaking a glance towards his brother. Gabe got up from the chair, giving one last look to Cas, before walking over to Sam. They both went out of the door. He sat down in the chair Gabe had just left and grabbed his free hand. 

He looked deep into his blue eyes, lit by the sunlight streaming through the curtain. They sparkled, faceted with different spots of lighter color. They stole his breath away, despite the vacant gaze they held. 

"Hey buddy. Sorry it, uh, took so long for me to get here. I let Sam sleep in a bit, bitch needed it. You're looking better, and..." He trailed off, stuck staring at those eyes. They held so much beauty, so much hope, but were dull. 

He could feel his own heart start to race a bit, his hand growing shaky in Cas' hold. He pulled it out quickly, putting them on his knees and trying to take a deep breath. 

"Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit," He muttered softly, screwing his eyes tight. He couldn't look at those eyes a second longer, the way he wasn't truly there. It was too much, too much. 

He took a few more minutes focusing on his own breathing before looking back up at Cas. He looked exactly the same as before, chest rising and falling slowly, back away from the bed. He put his hand back into Cas'. 

"Sorry, Cas. It's just hard, y'know? Seeing you like this. Especially after all those promises I'd made to you, that you'd be safe and everything. I'm-" He looked deep in Cas' eyes. "I'm falling apart, man. I need you to come back. Please, just come back." 

He waited a few more seconds before continuing, taking in a deep shaky breath. "I, uh, also brought you some clothes. They're mine, so they'll be a bit big, but they should be good enough until you're able to shop yourself. It's also Wednesday, so that means movie night. I can ask Gabe which ones you like..." 

The door opened and he started, but it was just a doctor. He looked kind, middle aged. He gave a small smile to Dean as he checked Cas' vitals. 

"What's your name, sir?" He asked, tapping his pen lightly against his chart. 

"Dean. Dean Winchester." He answered, studying the man. He laughed lightly. 

"Oh yeah, the jeans guy! All the nurses are talking about you." 

"Great," He muttered under his breath. 

"Heard ya signed out AMA. Don't get a lot of those around here. You doing alright?" He nodded, still watching him. "Good, good."

The doctor checked a few more vitals, before leaving the room carefully. It only took a few more minutes for Sam and Gabe to come back. When they did, he was shocked by how pale and shaky Gabe looked, his hand clutching tightly onto Sam's arm. His brother gestured for him to come over to the corner, and Gabe walked quickly over to the bed and sat down. 

"The police are here for the statements," Sam said quietly, glancing towards Cas. "They just took mine and Gabe's already, that's why it took us so long. They're ready for you now." 

He took a deep breath and nodded, walking over and opening the door. Two officers were standing outside, in addition to the guard. He tried not to let the little jolt of terror that ran through him show. Especially when he noticed the guns in their holsters. It looked so much like Luke's he couldn't help his flinch. 

"Mr. Winchester?" One asked, his voice carrying a small undertone of hostility that made his heart clench. 

"Just call me Dean, Mr. Winchester is my father." He responded back, trying to keep his voice steady. 

"Dean, then. Please come with us." The other one added, more gently. He'd already figured out which one was the good cop here. He followed them warily as they led him to a room he was certain was meant for the nurses on break. There was a single table with three chairs and a vending machine. They motioned for him to sit in the single chair on one side, while they took the seats opposite. 

The mean one set a recorder down on the table, turning it on. "My name is Officer Conrad, and this is Officer McCohard." He pointed to the nicer one. "We are here to ask you questions concerning the events of yesterday, February 24, 2011. The current time is thirteen hundred hours. Now, tell me, Dean, how did you first meet Castiel Novak?" 

He took a steadying breath and looked the officer in the eye. "I volunteered for the Lebanon Crisis Hotline until a few days ago, and when he called I was his operator." 

"How did you end up meeting in person?" Officer McCohard asked next. 

Well, this was going to go over well. "I, uh, called the cops, according to regulations. But Cas, he freaked out majorly, and I had where he was, so I went to him." 

"Against your regulations, correct?" 

"Uh, yeah. We weren't supposed to meet with callers. That's part of the reason for why I quit." 

"And the other part?" Said Officer Conrad. 

"I would've had to fill out the rest of my report and I couldn't without, uh..." He swallowed hard, looking down at the table. "I kinda helped him circumvent the whole 72 hour hold thing. I mean, I went later but then we kinda ended up in Urgent Care so-" 

"What?" 

"Yeah, I told him I was going to call the cops and he had a panic attack and hit his head, so I drove him to the Urgent Care. That's also why he ended up living with me-"

"He's living with you? Didn't your report say that he called on the fifteenth?" 

"Things happened kinda fast," He shrugged. 

The interview seemed to drag on for an hour. They asked all about how Cas seemed when he first met him, if he showed any violent tendencies. Then all about why he didn't call the cops when he got taken, and then a nice lecture on not going off and getting shot without letting the authorities know first. 

When it was all said and done, he was starving and having too many memories of the past day in his head to think straight. The officers finally excused him with the general 'don't leave town or anything'. But he had one final question. 

"Are you going to need to talk to Cas?" He tried not to let him hope shine through in his voice that he knew was painfully obvious. 

"Yeah, we will need to interview Castiel Novak, but it'll wait until he's ready." His shoulders slumped down a bit and he nodded, before leaving the break room. That was going to be horrible on Cas. 

He walked back over to the room, the ever present body guard still standing just outside. Then he took over Gabe's spot and held Cas' hand. 

*•*•*

They sat like that for the next few hours, before night fell. He'd asked Gabe for a suggestion on what movie he thought Cas would like to watch. Apparently he liked anything fantasy, at least when he was a kid. 

The little TV above the bed didn't have many channels, but one was playing Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. They settled on that, despite it being half and hour in. Sam settled on one side of the bed, Gabe the other, while he sat in the chair.

He gently tilted Cas' face away from the window until he was facing the TV, trying not to show the tears gleaming in his eyes as he did it. He honestly didn't know how much longer he could do this for, watching the man he- the man he loved be so helpless. 

To not even be able to ask him if he loves him too. 

But he pushed all those feelings down, gave the general 'I'm fine' answer when they asked how he was, and settled down to watch the movie. He'd never seen this one before, and it actually wasn't bad. He kept glancing over at Cas, but he was just gazing blankly barely a foot to the right of the screen. 

Sometime during that hour, a few tears slipped, hopefully unnoticed, from his eyes and onto his shirt. He always kept Cas' face in the corner of his eye, watching for any sign of awareness. But there wasn't any, just that glassy stare. 

After it was over, with Gabe having passed out halfway through, Sam offered to stay through the night. He protested, but his brother insisted on one more day with Dean to actually sleep in a bed. It killed him, but he woke Gabe up nonetheless and together they shuffled to the Impala. 

The older man fell asleep once again in the car, but they finally made it into apartment. He noticed for the first time that Gabe was still wearing the same clothes, trimmed in blood. He loaned him another shirt to him also, and made him take the bed. 

Once again, he passed out the moment his head hit the pillow, breathing in the soft scent of Cas that still clung to the white fabric. 

And once again his dreams were filled with service weapons and silent screams. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> Catatonia/disassociation. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are finally here: the last actual chapter of this fic. I'd like to give a huge thanks to everyone fir sticking with this and kudoing and commenting! The support has been amazing! 
> 
> There will be one more chapter posted Tuesday, but that will be an epilogue. 
> 
> Warnings in end notes.

The next day was the same. Holding Cas' hand and trying not to have a massive freak-out the entire time. He'd forced Sam to go to school, even if he was a little late. It was a testament to how much he cared about Cas that he actually whined about going in. Despite the fact, as he later said, that he had a criminal law essay, which for some reason he was super excited about. 

So he sat there watching, listening to the heart monitor softly track that his friend was still alive. Because that was one of the only signs that he was still alive. Watch the heart monitor, his soft breathing, the clench of his hand, and the inconsistent blinks. Little things you didn't normally notice, but when they are the only reassurance that someone is alive you watch as if your own sanity depends on it. And in a way, it does. 

Gabe spent most of the day at the police station, hashing out the details of their backstory and what would happen moving forward. They still needed Cas' statement, but there was a pretty solid case, and they were basically guaranteed a self-defense ruling. 

He did manage to convince Sam to let him stay that night. Although if he had said no the bitch would've ended up with a bloody nose so 'convince' may not be the right word. 

That's how he ended up sitting next to Cas that night, holding his hand gently as his eyes held the stars. He'd opened the window, so that if there was any part of him here, he might have something nice to look at. The bruise was fading from his face, barely a mark there anymore. 

After an hour though, he just couldn't do it. It was too much for him at this moment. He carefully took his hand out of Cas' grip, and walked out of the room. The security guard is gone, since they determined Cas was no longer a threat or in danger. It's also long past visiting hours, so the hallway was empty. Another window was just across the way, facing into the city. The barely-there skyline of the city was lit up in beautiful display of lights. 

He took a few more deep breaths, trying to clear his head. He had to do this, if not for himself than for Cas. His friend, his _love _, needs him. It doesn't matter how hard it is on him, how much he was cracking and breaking apart. Cas needs him, so he will be there.__

__

__He went back into the room, where Cas was in the exact same position. Eyes gazing unseeingly out the window and into the sky. He walked back to the chair and sat down._ _

__

__"Hey, Cas. Sorry for leaving you like that. This is all just very... hard on me. Not that that's your fault or anything. All me." He looked long at his friend, before standing up. He sat gently back down on the bed, feeling the mattress dip down from his weight._ _

__

__"I never did tell you why I volunteered at the hotline, did I?" He glanced over, looking at the blank blue eyes. Wasn't like he'd actually remember any of this, so what's the harm?_ _

__

__"My father, he was a drunk. Always had been. One night, he was driving home with all of us in the car. He was swerving, and even I could smell the Johnny on his breath. He drove straight through a red light, and a truck T-boned us. Killed my mom. After that, he blamed himself. The drink got worse, than the hits started." He looked once more at Cas, but he looked exactly the same as before. "I protected Sam from all of it, John never laid a hand on him. As for me..._ _

__

__"When I was fifteen, we had a next door neighbor my age. His name was Adam. Let's just say, some things happened, and John walked in on us. Beat me within an inch of my life. After that, I started thinking it was wrong, two men. That something was wrong with me._ _

__

__"It's scary to think that the only reason I'm here now is because of John. The only reason I'm not six feet below the ground after offing myself five years ago was to protect Sam from him. When we moved here after he died, I saw the pamphlet asking for volunteers. It seemed fitting, y'know? Like, maybe I could help someone else not go through what I did."_ _

__

__He glanced back at Cas, seeing those eyes still staring out the window. "It seems it was all worth it."_ _

__

__They sat there for a few minutes, as emotions warred in Dean's brain. But it didn't take long for him to decide, and everything seemed brighter once he did._ _

__

__"Y'know, I want to tell you something. I was waiting, until you're better. But, uh, I don't want to wait any longer." He grabbed Cas' hand with his. "I, I-" He felt that familiar panic rising up in him, but pushed it down. He could do this. He _will _do this.___ _

___ _

___"I love you, Castiel. I have since that first day and now, now-" He tried to control his breaths, watching Cas carefully for a reaction. There wasn't any. "I'm not going to lie, I was hoping it'd be like those movies where I confess my love and you miraculously wake up." He sniffled, felt a tear fall down his face._ _ _

___ _

___"Please, I can't do this without you." He whispered, letting the rest of them fall freely. "I need you, and I miss you. Just, come back to me, Cas."_ _ _

___ _

___The silence after made his heart hurt, and he did that weird humming thing he'd been doing. First some Metallica song that he just couldn't think of the name. Then some other song that he didn't really process. After a minute he realized what he was doing and focused more on the song, trying to draw the lyrics from wherever they were hidden in his mind._ _ _

___ _

___"Hey Jude," He started, his voice rough with tears. "Don't make it bad. Take a sad song, and make it better." He sniffed again, before continuing. "Remember to let her into your heart, then you can start to make it better."_ _ _

___ _

___He stopped, too lost in his crying to force the words out anymore. Then he froze._ _ _

___ _

___Cas' finger moved._ _ _

___ _

___Cas' fucking finger moved._ _ _

___ _

___"Cas?" He said, scrambling to look at him. "Can you hear me?"_ _ _

___ _

___And those blue eyes, those beautiful blue eyes, glanced over at him. And finally, he relaxed. Slumping down against Dean's shoulder like that was the only thing in the world keeping him from falling._ _ _

___ _

___ _

___ _

___ _

___*•*•*_ _ _

___ _

___ _

___ _

___ _

___He knew that something had changed, when he'd woken up. That he was no longer wrapped in the warm embrace of unconsciousness and was bared to the horrors of the world. Although his mind didn't truly let him feel them. It coddled him, pushed his awareness away until he was perched on the edge of a cliff, looking down at reality in the river below._ _ _

___ _

___There was a comforting voice he knew was probably Gabe. It was one he often heard when he was stranded here. His older brother, his protector. That was how it was supposed to be. Hushed tones and small jokes, that was what came through the cotton in his ears._ _ _

___ _

___The sunlight was warm on his face, but distant. As though there were a million windows that it shone through versus the single pane across from him. Dean had said the light brought out the blue in his eyes._ _ _

___ _

___Dean was there too, and Sam. Their voices came through, although dimmer than Gabe's. Maybe his mind wasn't yet sure if they were a threat or not. There was always the feel of a hand in his, and he clung to it desperately. It allowed him to not be drawn totally away from reality and into his memories._ _ _

___ _

___The nice thing about it, though, was that nothing hurt. He wasn't totally in his body, as though he were floating. There wasn't any pain. He was resting on top of all that, letting his mind take control and draw him further away from the room he was in. It was better that way. Less emotions meant less fear, less terror. He seemed to feel a lot of that._ _ _

___ _

___He couldn't be totally sure how much time was passing. Everything except for the touch of a hand was fluid and shifting._ _ _

___ _

___But then there was something. Like a lighthouse in a storm, he heard something. Not just the drowned out, muffled sounds of talking that seemed ever present, but an actual sound._ _ _

___ _

___He listened closer, suddenly struggling against the binds his mind was placing on him, trying to keep his consciousness safely ensconced in it's embrace. But he needed to hear more of the voice, needed to _feel _more.___ _ _

___ _

___He finally broke free of the ropes, surprised by how serene everything was. Gentle beeping, little light. It seemed almost like a dream, but more real than anything he'd experienced in the past eternity._ _ _

___ _

___And there was the voice, the light. And he finally heard what it was._ _ _

___ _

___And it was _singing _.___ _ _

___ _

___ _

___ _

___ _

___*•*•*_ _ _

___ _

___ _

___ _

___ _

___"Hey, hey, Cas? Are you back? Are you really here?" He didn't care that his voice cracked. He didn't give one single, fucking, shit. Cas was sniffling, pressing his face deeper into his shoulder. "Please, say something?"_ _ _

___ _

___"D-Dean?" He heard, quiet and soft but the best fucking sound in the entire fucking world._ _ _

___ _

___"I'm here, I'm here." He wrapped his good arm around his friend, pulling him even closer. "You're safe. This time I can actually promise that. No one will ever hurt you again."_ _ _

___ _

___Cas just kept crying, his tears soaking through the thin shirt. The position had to be uncomfortable for him, but he kept clinging on like he was a damn buoy._ _ _

___ _

___"I love you." He said again. Cas stopped crying as heavily, pulling up and looking at him._ _ _

___ _

___"What?" His voice was hoarse and rough but so, so beautiful._ _ _

___ _

___"I've loved you since the moment I've met you." He held his breath, staring deep into those eyes._ _ _

___ _

___"I love you, too." Cas breathed out, before closing the distance between them. His lips met his, warm and soft. They held onto each other, Dean's hand bunching the fabric of that damned gown in his palm. It was chaste and light, lasted for barely a second, but full of more emotion than he ever thought he could kiss someone with._ _ _

___ _

___They pulled away, out of breath despite doing nothing, and just stared at each other. Green meeting blue and creating the most beautiful scene in nature._ _ _

___ _

___Dean wrapped him up in another hug, gentle to avoid hurting his ribs and back. They leaned against the bed, which had been propped up to allow the patient to sit. Cas tensed slightly at the pressure it put on his back, but rested against his chest and relaxed._ _ _

___ _

___"What song were you singing?" He asked quietly._ _ _

___ _

___"Hey Jude. My mom used to sing it when I was a baby." He replied, leaning down to press another kiss to Cas' hair._ _ _

___ _

___"Can you keep singing it?"_ _ _

___ _

___"Yeah, yeah, anything." He cleared his throat, trying to make his voice sound a little less like he'd been crying._ _ _

___ _

___ _

___"And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain. Don't carry the world upon your shoulders."_ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> disassociation/catatonia  
> past child abuse  
> past homophobia  
> past suicidal thoughts


	19. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was originally going to be a sequel, but for the life of me I could not think of a plot, or even a basic outline. So, I recently wrote this chapter to tie everything up a bit better. Hope y'all enjoy! 
> 
> Warnings in end notes.

_Three months later_

"But we watched a horror movie last week, and you promised I could pick this time." Sam's voice was high pitched, bordering on whining. But he had those two perfect puppy eyes that no one could refuse, despite how many times Dean had tried. 

"Fine, fine. But I am not sitting through another rom-com. One time was enough." He swore under his breath as the hot butter he was holding dripped out of the bowl and onto his hand. Who knew popcorn was so dangerous to make? "I don't care how cute you are, Cas. That was enough to make any man leave a relationship." 

Cas gave him one of his half-smiles that seemed to be his signature, along with a happy hum. His head was down in one of Sam's textbooks, eyes roving over the words. He'd found his hidden passion in literature, reading everyone of Sam's books he'd had to buy for school, along with dozens from the library. About a month ago, he'd finally worked up the courage to ask about a job there that was made for him. Which of course he got. Would take an idiot to not see how passionate he was about reading.

"Is the popcorn done yet? Or are you just going to scowl at it all night?" Sam's voice floated back in from the living room. He was holding up the remote, glancing at him disapprovingly. 

"Bitch," He muttered under his breath, before bringing the snack over to 'his royal highness'. He pushed down into the space between Sam and Cas, the bowl balancing precariously on his lap. Cas reached a hand out and, without taking his eyes off the page, grabbed a handful of popcorn. 

"So what hell will you make me sit through tonight?" Dean asked, grabbing the remote. "Tell me it's something made before 2000? And rated above PG? No more animated Disney crap." 

"You'll see." His brother answered with a sly grin, snatching the remote out of Dean's hands. 

"In a few months, I won't have to listen to you anymore and can watch as many horror movies as I want without you whining and saying 'wit's too scwary'." 

"In a few months, you won't have anyone to yell at for touching the Impala." 

"In a few months, your little bitch-faces will all be gone to California, and I can eat my burgers in peace."

"Dean, those things are full of chemicals, not to mention how unhealthy they are.And, what with the amount you eat-" 

Cas cleared his throat, looking over at them. "In a few months, I won't have to listen to you two bicker like children anymore." He raised an eyebrow, before shoving another hand into the bowl. "And there'll only be one person to share the popcorn with." 

"Thinking of the right things there, Cas." Dean said, leaning over onto him. Cas put his head on his shoulder, eyes flicking downwards to keep reading. 

"Really, guys? What'd I say about the PDA?" 

"You said no kissing. Are we kissing?" Dean sent a suspicious glance towards his brother. "Do you want us to kiss? Because that's messed up, man." 

"Hell, no. I saw enough of that in the hospital to last well after I'm dead. I'd really prefer it not transfer here, too." 

Dean could feel how Cas stiffened at the mention of the past, but quickly moved his right hand to his left wrist, taking his pulse. He did it discreetly, so Sam couldn't see. He'd found out that trick a few weeks after he'd been released, and was having trouble with what his therapist called disassociation. He'd be spacey for days, then later ask simple things, like what hours he'd worked the prior day. Cas had said that the pulse thing helped, grounding him. 

He moved his hand into Cas' free one, squeezing him gently. He got another squeeze in reply, a wordless 'I'm alright'. 

The last few months hadn't all been puppies and rainbows. There had been some highlights, with Sam's acceptance and a full ride to Stanford and everything that’d happened between him and Cas. They'd taken it slow, but it was a comfortable kind of slow. So different from all his past relationships. 

Before, everything had happened so fast that they really didn't know each other. The attraction there was vibrant and burning, but nothing compared to now. Now, it's that kind of deep, emotional love that you only get from sharing a room with someone. Something that can only happen once you knew every annoying and heartwarming habit of their's. Cas, he sung in the shower, with the most amazing voice ever. And he writes his I's with little circles instead of dots like all the fifth grade girls do. It makes his name look like there's a halo above it. 

But then there were the not-so-good parts. It had taken a while for Cas to recover from his injuries, and for his own shoulder to heal enough to go back to work. And then there was the more mental side of things. Disassociation, PTSD, depression. It seemed Cas had gotten a rotten hand. Things had never gotten quite as bad as the lake, but there were ups and downs. A few times where he'd had to just hold Cas to his chest, saying he loved him and wouldn't be able to survive without him. Dean had never let on just how much those nights scared him, how he'd had to cry himself to sleep more than once after. No, that would just add to Cas' guilt. 

Because he also had this guilt over killing Luke. It had taken a while for Dean to realize that one. So many other things were going on it was easy to miss the subtle fingernails in palms and not eating lunch. Then the blade had come back, and he’d finally noticed. After a few late night talks with more emotions than he was comfortable with, that had seemed a bit better. Well, as far as he could tell. He hadn’t seen any new cuts since then. And the reading and the library seemed to help with the other things. He hadn't gone full catatonic since the hospital. 

The talking, though. That had taken a bit longer. He was getting better, starting to speak freely with them, at home. That itself had taken a solid month. And he was still hesitant around others, preferring to stay silent then talk. Biting lips had become the standard. But it was getting better. He just had to hold on to that. Everything was slowly, laboriously, getting better.

Gabe had left once Cas had been released, saying he was going to Monte Carlo to bang strippers, which, for some reason, he didn't quite believe. He'd been angry at Gabe before for abandoning Cas, but after spending a few weeks with him, he understood. He was just one of those people that can't be tied down to a normal family. He'd promised to call Cas at least once a week which so far he's been making good on. 

Loud music coming from the TV startled him back from his thoughts. Apparently Sam had been loading the movie while he and Cas were having their silent conversation. He glanced down, and saw that his fingers were no longer resting over his pulse-point, instead gripping the edge of the page and flipping it quietly. 

He looked up and saw the rain-swept boat yard that lit up the screen, men working the ropes in rags. And there was singing. Of course, there had to be singing.

"Please tell me this is not what I think it is." 

"Come on, Dean, it's a classic." 

"Yeah, but they're singing. A movie should not include singing. There has to be some kind of rule against that."

"That's why it's called a musical. Kind of implies they'll sing, right?" 

Dean sighed, snuggling farther into Cas' side. If he must sit through this, at least it's with the two people he loves the most. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, mentions of:  
> Disassociation,  
> Self-Harm,  
> Selective Mutism.
> 
> And very, very briefly mentions of:  
> PTSD,  
> Depression,  
> Eating Disorders.
> 
>  
> 
> I'd like to say thank you to everyone who's stuck by this. You guys have been absolutely amazing. There has been so many kudos and awesome comments. 
> 
> Thank you.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos or comment down below! I am a relatively new writer and would love feedback, good or bad, on this!


End file.
